The Girl in a Black Leather Dress
by RichardJ
Summary: For Foxface the end of the 74th Hunger Games means a new career and new friends. While the Hunger Games victor must come to terms with winning, one of those who died refuses to stay dead. Both must learn the significance of the black leather dress. A series of short stories that can be read in sequence or as standalone stories. Episodes 1-4 complete, further episodes possible.
1. 1: An invitation to the feast

Suzanne Collins is acknowledged as the creator of the Hunger Games characters and story.

_74th Hunger Games Arena, Day 9 – Only three boys and three girls of the original 24 tributes remain alive; Cato and Clove from District 2, Finch ("Foxface") from District 5, Thresh from District 11 and Peeta and Katniss from District 12. The surviving tributes know the time to end the contest approaches, otherwise their wounds or hunger may claim their lives before another tribute can. Let the endgame begin … _

Part 1 – Invitation to the feast

"You're not going to the feast," says Peeta for the umpteenth time.

We both know what Claudius Templesmith's broadcast invitation to the feast at the Cornucopia means. It's a chance to get the medication we need to heal the infection in Peeta's leg wound. A large gash courtesy of Cato's sword. A wound that's now turned septic. Peeta will die if the infection isn't treated soon. I lack both the skill and the herbs I need to do more than keep his wound clean.

But to go to the feast means facing the other four surviving tributes. And failure to arrive at the Cornucopia at dawn will mean another tribute will likely steal the medicine intended for Peeta's wound. Of course Peeta and I are assuming that medicine is the gift Claudius Templesmith means when he says it will be something we desperately need. In previous Games the promised gifts from a feast have sometimes proved to be worthless. A simple trick to force the tributes together to fight each other.

If Peeta was fit enough to accompany me we might stand a chance, but he can't even make it to the mouth of our hideout unaided. But I'm determined to try and save him. He saved me earlier in the Games and I don't like unpaid debts. I've long since stopped worrying about what the audience thinks of my relationship with Peeta. The parachute delivering the container of soup yesterday shows we still have sponsors willing to back us.

Peeta's faith in Haymitch is unwavering even though we both know the cost of items sponsors are asked to provide increases astronomically as the Games progress. The cost of yesterday's bowl of soup will be high enough; the medication we need would cost a king's ransom. If we stay away from the feast then Peeta is gambling his life on Haymitch being able to raise enough sponsorship money to buy the medication. I don't think the odds are in his favour.

As night approaches I feel exhausted from my efforts at tending Peeta's wound and keeping us supplied with food. But it has been worth it. Today has been a better day for us. This morning I found a plentiful supply of roots and berries that will keep us fed for a few days and Peeta's fever finally broke. He looks slightly better but is still very weak. The spreading infection in his leg will soon alter that though; but for the moment he's sitting up, lucid and hungry.

"I don't think I've properly thanked you for saving me," says Peeta.

"Yes you did. Don't you remember?" I reply, blushing. He can't have been that delirious when he showed his appreciation after I pulled him to safety yesterday morning. I'm still confused and uncertain about my own emotions after Peeta's show of affection and gratitude. If it wasn't for the hidden cameras televising our every action to all of Panem I would have tried to talk to him about it. But I haven't been able to. I'm shy about such things and while I could probably pluck up enough courage to have a sensible conversation with him if we alone, it is out of the question in front of an audience.

Peeta takes my hand and pulls me towards him. Part of me wants to melt into his arms, like before, while part of me wants to break and run. Yet again my actions are guided by my fear of what the hidden viewers might think. More importantly the reaction of our sponsors. That we have sponsors at all is a small miracle. This deadly arena may be a peculiar place for a romance … if that what you can call one passionate kiss and a quick caress … but at least one sponsor must have decided to fund that life saving container of soup as a result.

I allow myself to be drawn into Peeta's embrace. A warm feeling flows through me which I find strangely pleasant. I'm careful not to push against his injured leg as we resume where we left off yesterday. Only this time it is much longer and much more intense … and is confusing my mind. For the moment the audience is forgotten. For the moment only Peeta and I exist in our world.

All good things much eventually end and Peeta finally falls asleep. In other circumstances I would happily fall asleep in his arms, but not tonight. Tonight I must leave for the Cornucopia if I'm to be in position for tomorrow's dawn feast. My recollection of the area around the Cornucopia has given me a plan. A risky plan, but one that at least offers me an outside chance of survival.

I leave around midnight after making sure Peeta has access to food and water. His fever is returning and I don't need to examine his wound to know he has one … maybe two … days before his wound will prove fatal unless properly treated.

My plan relies on avoiding confrontation with the other tributes. It means I must be the first to claim my promised gift. Then I need to run like the wind before any of the others can claim their gift and pursue me. As I head towards the Cornucopia I think of several flaws in my plan but I steady my nerves and resolve to stick to it regardless. A half-hearted attempt will be a fatal attempt.

My biggest worry is caused by the unexpected change in the rules that allows two victors if they come from the same district. That means Cato and Clove will be working as a team – one to recover their gift, the other to hunt the other tributes. I know what to expect if Cato gets hold of me.

I'm in position well before dawn. As far as I can tell I've arrived before the others. I'm lost if another tribute discovers my hiding place. I'm well hidden from view, although I cannot see far as a result. But I have a good view of where the feast should appear and I need to be ready to act in an instance. Even a few seconds delay could be the difference between escape and death.

Suddenly the feast is rising on a table from an opening in the ground. Four bags with a district number on each. This is no time for doubts and I dash forward. So far my plan has worked but that could change in a moment. I'm the first to the table and I don't break my stride as I grab my bag and head for the nearest trees. There's no sound of pursuit but for an agonising ten seconds I know I'm in plain sight and an easy target.

I make it to the trees only to discover I'm being pursued. I suspect it is Cato. Thresh would surely recover his bag before pursuing me, and neither of the other two girls would make such a racket through the undergrowth. But I dare not stop and look behind me to check.

My best hope is speed. I'm light on my feet and have reasonably good staying power over a distance. My pursuer is gradually falling behind, but he isn't giving up, even when the sound of the cannon signals another tribute's death. I had hoped he would decide there are more dangerous enemies back at the Cornucopia and abandon this chase, but I'm sadly brought back to reality. I can't lead him back to Peeta so I must head into territory I don't know. Fortunately I find a game trail through the woods which makes the going easier and presents few obstacles to slow me down. Regrettably it also means my pursuer can easily follow my trail.

The rising sun has cleared the surrounding hills by the time I've gained enough distance on my pursuer to contemplate hiding and giving him the slip. I see a suitable copse and scramble under a thick bush. I wait patiently for his arrival, which is signalled well ahead of his appearance by the sound of heavy footfall and breaking twigs. Finally I see him … As I thought, it is Cato. He passes within ten metres of me without breaking his stride and disappears into the trees beyond.

I decide to wait a short while before moving in case Cato realises I'm no longer ahead of him and he decides to backtrack. While I wait I risk a quick check that my bag is secure on my belt. I haven't opened it yet but the number 5 clearly displayed on it tells me I definitely have the right bag.


	2. 1: A reunion with Peeta

Part 2 – A reunion with Peeta

My caution is well deserved. Cato has obviously realised I'm no longer ahead of him and retraced his steps. I freeze, not daring to breath as he searches the trail for signs of where I may have hidden. I hold my breath for so long I start to feel dizzy.

I must have momentarily passed out because when I look again he's gone. I decide to take a different route back to Peeta to avoid Cato. Besides, our hideout is near the rocky crag I can see across the valley to the right of the game trail. Even moving carefully I should be able to reach Peeta in less than an hour. I've not forgotten time is against us if Peeta's life is to be saved.

But fate has other plans for me today. As I descend into the valley I see someone heading for the stream that follows the valley floor. I can't make out who it is but they aren't as tall as either Thresh or Cato so it can only be Clove or Katniss. She is moving erratically, suggesting she is injured. I can't risk skirting around her to the right in case Cato sees me, so I decide to get closer and cross behind her before passing well to her left. As I approach the stream I spot a trail of blood. The girl is definitely injured.

At home I would run to her aid and offer what assistance I could. Here in the arena the only thanks I would likely get is a knife in my belly. She must fend for herself, just as Peeta would have to if he hadn't saved me from Cato earlier in the Games and created a blood debt I intend to repay with the newly acquired medication in my bag. After that we are rivals again.

I catch several glimpses of the girl ahead of me. Finally I get a clear look and realise it is Katniss. Her braided dark hair is unmistakeable. She hasn't noticed me and seems preoccupied in staunching a wound to her forehead. Curiosity gets the better of me and I follow her as far as the stream. She bathes her wound in the stream which temporarily revives her. But she's still groggy and although she has an arrow notched in her bow she doesn't appear ready to repel a surprise attack. Not that I have any such intention. I'm not a killer and the small knife Peeta gave me is better suited for gathering food rather than a weapon.

Despite her wound Katniss seems sufficiently in command of her senses not to stay exposed by the water's edge any longer than necessary. She gets up and crosses the stream. Once on the other side she turns left and heads almost directly to where Peeta is hiding. Does she know where he is or is her choice of route a coincidence? I follow her at a distance, all the time checking I'm not observed by any one else.

As I near our hideout I realise Katniss has found Peeta. I get as near as I can without being detected so I can listen to their conversation. Not that there's a lot of informative discussion. Each is worried about the other's wounds and both seem equally incapable of helping the other beyond comforting words. If these two are truly the star-crossed lovers the pre-Games interviews portrayed then their ardour has cooled significantly over the last ten days. My assessment of their union doesn't take long – allies? definitely; friends? perhaps; lovers? unlikely.

Lovers or not, one thing is clear … I've no place in their new alliance. But I feel obliged to deliver the medication to Peeta and fulfil my debt of honour. I open my bag from the feast and remove the large jar of what must be medication for Peeta. There's a packet in the bag as well but that is clearly labelled with my name so I leave it for later. My main problem is how to deliver the medication to Peeta without getting myself killed in the process. It could be hours before they fall asleep, by which time it may be too late to save Peeta. His death now might solve a problem for later, but my sense of honour rejects the idea of delaying delivery of the medication. Suddenly their conversation turns to the very issue at hand.

" You did well to set yourself up in here with your leg wounded like that. If you hadn't cried out I would never have found you," says Katniss.

"I had help. Finch … the girl from District 5 … rescued me from the stream. I would have died for sure if she hadn't helped me. But it may be for nothing. She left last night to go to the feast. We thought the Gamemaker's gift might be medication for my wound. She hasn't returned. When I heard you nearby I thought it was her. It's been hours … she's probably dead."

"The red haired girl? I saw her. She at least made it to the feast and gathered her bag. But I think Cato chased after her. I don't know why he did that, but it saved my life. Clove would have killed me if Cato had been around to stop Thresh killing Clove. But why has she been helping you? She has nothing to gain by keeping you alive."

"A debt of honour … or so she said. I helped her escape from Cato on the second day."

"The same unwritten rule that stayed Thresh's hand when he could have killed me. I took care of young Rue, his fellow tribute from District 11, so Thresh felt he had to let me go just one time when he had me at his mercy."

"And yet we will still eventually kill each other. What price honour then? How many of those who have already been killed deserved to die. None. It's the Capitol that is our real enemy."

"Hush! Be careful what you say. You're becoming delirious," says Katniss in a hushed voice. "I just wish there was something I could do to help."

I concur with her caution. Peeta's outburst is being broadcast … possibly live … and traitorous talk will bring down the Gamemaker's wrath. As for helping him, I hold the key to that. I act quickly before my courage fails me.

I place the medication on a rock near the hideout where it will be visible to anyone leaving it. I withdraw a short distance and make a noise that can be heard from inside the hideout. I'm rewarded with a "What's that?" cry from Katniss. Then in a quieter voice; "Stay hidden. I'll go take a look." I'm long gone before Katniss can gather her bow and come outside.

There's no pursuit and after a couple of minutes I feel safe … at least as safe as anyone can feel in the arena. Now my most urgent need is food. When I left for the feast last night I took a share of the food I found yesterday, but I've eaten nearly all of it. I've never been a hunter and my knowledge of edible plants is sketchy at best. At first I had survived by raiding the supplies at the Cornucopia. A dangerous strategy and one simple mistake resulted in me being at Cato's mercy for several terrifying hours. I've witnessed how Cato likes to torture his victims with his blades. But that wasn't the type of torture he had in mind for me. Fortunately Peeta helped me escape before any real harm befell me.

Compared to many girls my age I suppose I'm pretty … if you like girls on the slim side. I'm used to boys staring at me and I'm vain enough to like it. Up to a point. At home my parents keep both me and my admirers firmly in check. A bit of harmless flirting is tolerated, but nothing more serious.

Since the reaping I've lost my parents protection and for the first time must fend for myself. During training I found the blatant attention of several of the boy tributes unsettling. I instinctively knew they weren't simply studying my weak performance at weapons training. My mentor noticed what was going on and even suggested I encourage these attentions. It was advice I firmly rejected until I was Cato's prisoner.

When Cato held me captive I could see the desire in his eyes. Given the choice of an agonising death or playing the temptress, I opted for the latter. Not that I fooled myself into believing Cato wouldn't kill me once he had finished having fun, but in a situation like that any straw is worth clutching. Fortunately it bought me enough time to effect an escape with Peeta's help. Is that why Cato was so anxious to catch me at the feast? Lust? … Or revenge?

I keep away from the trails and am rewarded with the discovery of some edible roots. By mid-afternoon I reach the hideout I was using before I stumbled across Peeta. Here are my few possessions salvaged from the wreckage left when Katniss destroyed Cato and Clove's supplies from the Cornucopia. The I settle down to rest. Tomorrow I'll need to find more food, but for now my water flask is full and today's bounty means I won't starve.


	3. 1: The storm

Part 3 – The storm

I'm so tired that I nod off for an hour or so and miss the nightly broadcast. I'm not too concerned. The conversation Katniss and Peeta were having told me Clove had died and I have heard only one cannon today. So now there are five of us left. For the first time my thoughts turn towards how I might become the victor. Until now my goal has been to simply survive as long as possible, believing that ultimately I would be trapped, overpowered and killed. The best I could hope for was a quick and painless death. Now … well you never know.

I remember the package addressed to me in the bag I retrieved from the feast. I open it and examine the single item of clothing inside. A rather alluring black dress; hardly something I desperately need. Probably my useless mentor's idea of a joke. She definitely has a screw loose somewhere. It's as well the bag also contained Peeta's medication or I'd be furious when I think of the risks I took to recover it.

I'm tempted to throw the dress away, but decide to keep it in case it might be useful. When I examine it more closely I realise the design is identical to a sketch I drew on the final night in the Training Centre. I had been scared that last night and I retired to my room early. My fellow District 5 tribute wanted nothing to do with me so there was no comfort from that quarter. To take my mind off the arena I had resorted to my usual habit of sketching clothes designs. I'm not particularly good at designing clothes and usually the designs reflect my mood at the time.

I don't know why the Gamemakers selected this particular design from among the half dozen I'd sketched that evening. Nor why they went to the expense of making a real dress from it. I try to recall what was thinking when I sketched it but I can't remember. Practically my whole life history flashed through my mind that evening. I'm still trying to remember as I settle down for the night. The night sky is clear and I watch the stars as I drift off into an exhausted sleep.

The rain starts a few hours before dawn. A gentle shower would have been welcome, but not this downpour. The speed with which the storm arrived and its ferocity suggests it is artificially created. Part of the Gamemakers' plan to force a resolution to the Games. Few Games go into a third week and this is the eleventh day.

As dawn arrives I realise that if the rain persists I'll have to change location. The water running off the higher ground behind me is forming torrents either side of the rocky outcrop where I'm hiding. If the water rises much further it will flood my hideout. I pack what I can carry and move further up the outcrop. I'm not as well hidden up here but it is unlikely anyone will see me in this weather. Thunder and lightning add to the pounding of the rain. The branches I'm using to provide a roof over my head are becoming battered and are letting in copious amounts of water. Before long there isn't a dry place to sit and I'm forced to raise the hood of my jacket. My situation is becoming more uncomfortable by the minute.

By mid-morning it is obvious the rain isn't going to ease up any time soon. While my jacket and boots are waterproof, my trousers are sopping and I'm starting to feel chilled. I need to find a better location, preferably one with a source of food nearby. I recall that there are some small caves not far from where Peeta and Katniss are hiding, but food is scarce in that area. Besides, now Peeta and Katniss are united as a team, I would be placing my life at risk going near them.

I would be foolish to move any nearer to the Cornucopia as that is Cato's territory. His hideouts are poorly constructed and easy to find. At first I thought this was a deliberate ploy to lure an opponent into a trap, but I now believe he is simply inept at building a hide. He probably had to abandon his hide as soon as the rain started and go … where? The Cornucopia would offer the best shelter but it also very exposed. An opponent could approach from the rear without being seen and once you are discovered the only option would be to fight your way out. Nevertheless that's where I think Cato will be. He has enough confidence in his fighting abilities to match any of us should we be foolish enough to attack him. Realistically Thresh will be the only opponent seriously worrying Cato. Katniss is good with a bow but Cato has never seen her use it so he probably doesn't realise the threat she poses. As for Peeta and I, I doubt we are causing Cato any lost sleep.

While I think I know where Cato, Peeta and Katniss are hiding and their likely strategy, Thresh is a different matter. So far he has tended to keep to the expanse of long grass on the far side of the Cornucopia. I tried following him once but abandoned my effort when he entered the marshy area at the bottom of the gentle downward slope leading away from the Cornucopia. His hiding place is probably in the marsh. That may mean he has had to abandon it in favour of higher ground. Could he venture in this direction? Possibly. I had better be careful.

Sitting here is achieving nothing so I gather what I can carry. I cram the bag with as much as possible and slip what remains into the pockets of my jacket. I head in a direction that will increase the distance between me and where I believe the others might be. Unfortunately this is clearly contrary to the Gamemakers' wishes as the area I'm aiming for is cut off by a wide torrent that has swept away everything in its path. I follow the torrent uphill in the hope it will narrow as it gets nearer its source. At least the trees are thicker here and provide better shelter from the rain.

I realise my quest is futile when I come to a fork in the torrent. I can't go any further uphill. The torrent splits in front of me and each fork cascades down a different valley either side of me. The fork I have just followed must flow into the valley where Peeta and Katniss are hiding; the other fork heads in the general direction of the lake near the Cornucopia. The arena has just become less than a tenth of its original size.

I find shelter under a nearby tree while I think about what to do next. A loud booming sound distracts me but the noise of the storm confuses me … was it thunder or a cannon reporting the death of another tribute? I won't know for certain until tonight's Gamemakers' broadcast. Whatever caused the noise it probably saved my life. The sound caused me to become alert while it distracted the person following the other torrent. He hasn't seen me but I've seen him. I can't be certain whether it is Cato or Thresh in the gloom of the forest and the heavy rain. Not that it matters. If either of them sees me I'm as good as dead.

I lie flat and cover myself with fallen leaves and branches as quietly as possible. He is too close for me to risk running away. The boundary formed by the twin torrents means I can't head directly away from him and he could intercept me before I was clear. I am lucky he doesn't suspect anyone else is nearby or he might make a better effort at scanning his surroundings. As he follows the torrent towards the fork I lose sight of him and try to track him by sound alone. It is a near impossible task as the sound of the storm and the noise of the torrents mask his movements. The best I get is the occasional sound of a broken twig or rustling through the undergrowth.

I lose track of him for what seems an interminable length of time but in reality can't have been more than a minute. I risk taking a look and immediately regret doing so. It's Thresh. He is barely ten metres from me and had he been looking in my general direction he couldn't have missed my movement. Fortunately he is looking at the fork in the torrent while munching on whatever he has in the bag slung over his shoulder.

He takes out his water flask and realises it is empty. There's a plentiful supply of water from the torrent but reaching it needs care. He goes towards the edge of the torrent and slips the bag containing his food off his shoulder. He places the bag and the large knife he was carrying on the ground and carefully moves towards the water's edge. The ground is unstable by the edge of the torrent but he navigates the route successfully. He bends down to fill his water flask. I make a dash for the bag of food with the intention of making off with it. Thresh sees me just as I reach the bag. He's less than three metres from me and to my horror I realise he has a throwing knife tucked in his belt. His knife is out in a flash. I instinctively fling myself at the floor knowing I'm too close to him to avoid being hit.


	4. 1: Cato has a visitor

Part 4 – Cato has a visitor

I blurt out something pathetic like "please don't kill me" as I wait for the impact of Thresh's knife. But it doesn't come. Has he missed? I risk a look. He's gone!

I raise myself up and look at where he was standing. It takes me only a few seconds to realise his sudden movement when he saw me caused him to loose his footing on the treacherous banks of the torrent. He must have fallen into the raging water and been swept downstream. The loud report of what is unmistakeably a cannon echoes across the arena. Is it for Thresh? Or is it for another tribute while Thresh is a short distance downstream?

I don't wait to find out. I grab Thresh's bag and long knife and return to where I left my things. I find a new path keeping well away from both torrents. The trees start to thin out and offer less protection from the relentless storm. Finally I decide to stop and go back a short way to where the trees offer better cover. After a bit of searching I find a spot where the undergrowth offers a small hiding place which is reasonably sheltered from the rain. It's not perfect but it will do for now. I look in Thresh's bag and find a plentiful supply of grain. I've no idea where he got it from; was this what his mentor sent him in his bag at the feast? Or are there fields of grain beyond the marshy area Thresh claimed as his territory?

With my hunger satisfied for the moment I settle down to rest. I dare not sleep in case Thresh is still alive and hunting me. I'm fairly confident I've moved far enough from the fork in the torrent to make it difficult for him to find me, but that doesn't mean he won't try. Despite the risk I decide to remain hidden here until this evening before moving to a location where I can see tonight's broadcast.

The storm eases just before the broadcast. This both confirms the storm is artificial and makes it possible to see the broadcast. I wait patiently a short distance from my current hideout. I've taken the precaution of remaining hidden in case Thresh or one of the others is nearby. It would be a perfect time for an attack under the noise and distraction of the broadcast.

Two deaths today … Thresh … and Peeta! Thresh died as a consequence of my actions. Did Peeta? Was I too late with the medication? I can't help but feel sorrow and remorse for both of their deaths. Peeta was right when he said none of us deserve to die and our real enemy is the Capitol.

I return to my hideout. At one level I'm relieved Thresh isn't out there hunting me. Neither Cato nor Katniss have any idea where I am, so I'm safe unless they venture out of their hideouts in this rain and blunder across my hideout … a chance in a million despite the reduced size of the arena. I settle down to sleep.

I wake around dawn. It is still raining but the thunder and lightning have stopped. What do I do now? I have enough food for a few days and there is a plentiful supply of water around me. There are only three of us left. If the Gamemakers follow their practise of previous Games, they will leave us alone for today to allow time for all the betting to conclude. The death of Thresh yesterday will have thrown the odds firmly in Cato's favour. But the odds on Katniss winning are probably better now she is no longer handicapped by caring for Peeta. As for my odds? Well I don't fool myself into believing I'm a good bet. There will be those who support me in their hearts, but when it comes to money the bet goes where common sense tells you to put it. The same thoughts are probably going through Cato and Katniss's heads. Cato may not have seen Katniss at work with a bow, but he will remember Katniss was awarded an eleven in training compared to his ten. I doubt either of them can recall my lowly five.

There is one advantage in being ranked the outsider in the odds. Both Cato and Katniss will regard the other as their main threat and will probably plan on leaving me for later. Sure, if one of them chances across me they will stop to deal with me, but otherwise their focus will be on their primary target. If I'm lucky, each will believe the other killed Thresh, making them doubly wary.

The rain stops a short while later. I'm satisfied I've come up with a plan and just need to summon enough courage to carry it out. The safest option would be to stay hidden until either Cato or Katniss are eliminated, but I can't be sure the Gamemakers won't interfere and force me into a three-way bloodbath. Besides, sitting and waiting unseen and unknowing may only place me at a disadvantage when the time comes to face the survivor.

It is getting unbearably hot. I've changed my clothes, deciding the dress I received at the feast is more suited to this hot weather than the outfit I've been wearing continuously for nearly two weeks. The dress fits me perfectly and feels so much more comfortable. When I drew the design I didn't have a particular material in mind. The dress I've been given is made of a very soft leather and the red trim compliments my hair perfectly.

I don't recall drawing the dress so deep cut, or so short. The end product is decent, but only just. It's the sort of dress I've imagined myself wearing but never had the courage or the opportunity. If I was at home I suspect my parents would have a few words to say about it. But if it distracts Cato for only a moment then it will have served a purpose.

I pack my bag with what I need and hide the rest of my things. I need to travel light if I'm to locate Cato without him seeing me. I know my fate if he sees me first. Cato may well be out hunting, but is unlikely to expect me to be hunting him. The obvious place to start is the area near the Cornucopia.

The torrents have reduced to a trickle and the sun is baking the ground hard. More of the Gamemakers' interference. I take the precaution of filling my water bottle and push on towards the Cornucopia. At one point I try crossing the now dried up channel left by a torrent, only to find a force field preventing me from gaining the other bank. The reduction in the size of the arena is clearly to last for the remainder of the Games. At least walking in the deep channel cut by the torrent enables me to move without the risk of being seen from a distance. Someone would have to be standing on the edge of the channel to see below.

Finally I must leave the cover of the channel. I creep through the undergrowth until I can see the Cornucopia. There's no sign of activity. I circle around the edge of the clearing surrounding the Cornucopia, looking for any trace of Cato. My patience is rewarded when I come across a crude hideout near the lake. There are signs it has been used in the last day or so. I'm busy examining it for clues when I hear movement in the bushes about thirty metres away. The breaking twigs and rustling of branches tells me it is Cato long before I see him. He is coming straight towards the hideout. I have only seconds to prepare.

He is almost at his hideout before he sees me. He stops and stares at me dumbfounded.

"Hi. How are things?" I ask before he can shake himself out of his shock. Had I been running at him with a weapon or shown any form of hostility he would instinctively react and know what to do. Finding me sitting here at ease with a friendly smile completely throws him. My previous encounters with Cato have given me an insight into his make up. In a straight fight he can ruthlessly kill an opponent in seconds, but is totally lost when dealing with the unexpected.

"So so. How about you?" he replies cautiously. The look of shock doesn't leave his face. At least he's intrigued enough not to kill me straight away. My gamble has paid off so far.

"I'm fine. I thought I would pay you a visit."

"Really? … er … Why?" he says absent-mindedly. Despite his look of total confusion I can tell his eyes are riveted on my dress … or more precisely, what is tantalisingly hidden just out of sight.


	5. 1: A warriors reward

Part 5 – A warrior's reward

I relax a bit now it is clear Cato doesn't intend to attack me at once. It was a massive gamble coming here and I'm still not clear why I chose this course of action. I had assessed my options and the risks, and my heart rather than my mind convinced me this is the best of a poor set of choices. Not that I'm out of danger yet.

"I've a proposal to put to you," I say, moving slightly to allow Cato a better view.

"Such as … ?" he replies, taking advantage of my unspoken offer.

"An alliance between us until Katniss Everdeen is dead."

"And why would I need your help in disposing of one small girl?"

"Oh, Cato. You really underestimate her. She didn't score an eleven in training by giving a stunning performance of basket weaving. She's a killer. I thought you would have realised that by now."

"Hmmm … I admit she has proved a challenge. And what do I get out of our arrangement?"

His eyes convey a simple clear meaning … 'I desire you. I want to make you mine!' Regrettably my inner emotions seem to want me to answer … 'yes, please!'

"Me of course! You'll not find me unwilling … within reason," I purr in an uncharacteristic simper. What on earth am I doing? He's attractive but he's not my type boy at all.

"And what do you get?"

"I know there's bad blood between you and Katniss so I'm sure she intends to save you for last. Which means she'll be looking for me next. So the safest place for me is with you."

"And once she's dead … what then?"

"You give me five minutes clear start and then it's a contest to the death."

"Or I could just simply kill you instead. I don't understand how you've stayed alive this long."

"Yes, you could break our agreement and kill me, but then you will live with the tag of a coward for the rest of your life. That wouldn't go down too well back home would it?"

"Hmmm. You have a point. OK. We have a deal. Go lie down over there."

"Hadn't we better check Katniss isn't nearby first?" I say, moving towards him and giving him a brief kiss. I need to stay in control of this encounter and letting him believe there is more on offer will keep him from killing me.

"If she is it will save us the trouble of hunting her down. Don't worry, I'm wearing body armour so even if she attacks us she can't hurt me. I'll dispose of her before she realises her mistake."

I note he doesn't seem concerned that I might be Katniss's target. His skin tight body armour is only visible close up. I've never come across anything like it. This must be what was in Cato's bag at the feast. Although how he retrieved the bag is a mystery. Perhaps is was a gift direct from his sponsors instead.

"It must be hot wearing that armour," I say in a conversational tone. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable without it on?"

"Yes, but it stays on. Now …"

A sound from behind Cato causes us both to look up. A loud thud causes Cato to grunt and momentarily stagger. I quickly realise an arrow has bounced off his body armour. He recovers after a few seconds and turns towards his attacker. I briefly see Katniss at the edge of the clearing notching another arrow. I take cover while Cato grabs his sword and charges at Katniss.

I'm too busy hiding to notice what happens next. When I risk a glance I can see Cato falling to the ground about five metres short of Katniss. An arrow is protruding from his unprotected head. He hits the ground as Katniss notches another arrow. Is she being cautious in case there's life left in Cato yet, or is this arrow for me?

As frightened as I am, at least I understand what is going on. My brain is functioning normally and I'm not frozen in panic. Which unfortunately doesn't help me comprehend what happens next.

As expected the sound of the cannon records Cato's death; but that is quickly followed by the victory fanfare and a broadcast announcement transmitted to everyone inside and outside the arena. "Ladies and gentlemen. May I introduce you to the victor of the 74th Hunger Games … From District 12, Katniss Everdeen."

Hold on! What's going on? What about me? I stand up and look at Katniss. She sees me and must surely realise the Gamemakers' mistake and knows she still has me to face. But no. She rubs her eyes before dropping her weapons and sinking to the floor with a look that shows both relief and weariness. A craft appears in the sky and a ladder drops to take her away from the arena. Once she's inside the craft then Cato's body is retrieved and the craft departs.

I stand speechless barely 50 metres away and in clear sight, yet no attempt is made to recover me from the arena.

"Hi. Are you OK?" comes a familiar voice behind me once the craft has disappeared.

"Peeta!? What's going on?" I squeak, trying to hold on to my sanity. I'm talking to a dead man.

"Your boss sent me to fetch you and show you the way. He wants to congratulate you on a job well done? Come; it's time to party."

My boss? What boss? Oh! … Surely Peeta doesn't mean the guy who was at the train station when I arrived in the Capitol after the Reaping. He pushed his way to the front of the crowd and shook my hand. He held me long enough to offer me a job as his handmaiden … good pay and plenty of fringe benefits. I really wasn't paying attention to everything he was saying and it was easier to say 'yes' than argue with him. After all, I was likely to be dead in a few weeks and in the improbable event I came out the victor, I would be wealthy enough not to bother with any job.

"You mean Mr. Odlin? I didn't think he was serious. Anyway … um … aren't you dead, Peeta? … Am I hallucinating?"

"Odin, not Odlin. And yes, I'm dead. So are you … in a way. And you are perfectly sane."

"I'm dead?! I don't remember dying. I feel like I normally do. When did I die?"

"When Cato discovered you hiding on your way back from the feast. Odin will have erased the memory of your death from your mind. No need to leave you with a source of nightmares. … The look on Cato's face when you appeared at his camp just now was priceless. He couldn't work out if you were real or a ghost. It gave Katniss the edge to snatch victory. So on behalf of District 12; thank you."

"But if I died coming back from the feast, what about the medication I left for you; and my meeting with Thresh?"

"Katniss and I thought you left the medication and ran off. We had heard the cannon earlier announcing a tribute's death but obviously didn't know it was for you at that time. It wasn't until the nightly broadcast we realised you were dead so couldn't have delivered the medication. But I now know it was you after all, so thank you for it. It revived me enough to help Katniss escape when Cato found us. Cato had to be content with finishing the job he started on me.

"As for your meeting with Thresh, I don't know if he saw you or whether he slipped and caused the bank to collapse, trapping him under water."

"So what now?"

"As I said, it's party time. Odin's hall is a great place for a party. Plenty of singing, laughter, and wenching."

"Wenching? Why would I be interested in a load of rowdy guys wenching? Hey … I'm not supposed to be one of the wenches am I?" I say, more intrigued than appalled. In truth I'm in the mood for a bit of partying after the last few weeks and being with Peeta will suit me quite nicely.

"No … no … Well, not unless you want to join in. A girl with your looks wearing a dress like that will have plenty of guys competing for your favours. Now you're a valkyrie and immortal you can come and go between the world of the living and Odin's hall as you please."

"A what? … I thought dead people went to heaven?"

"A valkyrie. One of Odin's handmaidens. Apparently you agreed to help choose those slain in battle who are worthy to enter Odin's great hall. I was the first you've chosen, so I have the privilege of escorting you on your first visit to Odin's hall. And heaven's a big place; Odin's hall is just one small part of it."

"I chose you? How? I don't understand."

"As I said, you are a valkyrie. By bestowing your kiss upon a warrior who will shortly die of a wound received in battle, you grant him entry into Odin's hall. But Odin will explain more when we get there. Are you ready?"

"Yes, ok. There's no point in staying here. Does this hall have a name?"

"Yes. Valhalla."

[end of episode 1]


	6. 2: Illegal Entry

Episode 2: Part 1 – Illegal Entry

On the surface the Capitol is a wonderful city with all the modern trimmings Panem's technology can provide. There are no shortages; no power cuts; no poor people; no misery … at least, on the surface. The beautifully decorated buildings stand in stark contrast to the squalor seen in the Districts. It's as though two worlds exist side by side … one feeding off the other like a parasite. The more I think about it the more I believe the word 'parasite' describes the Capitol and it's citizens perfectly. … Not that my observation is a great revelation … All five of us in this room have first hand experience of the inequalities of life in Panem. We are living through the worst of it at this very moment.

This basement is as bleak as anything found in the Districts. Our room is undecorated … unless you count the scratch marks on the dirty pale grey walls made by the room's previous occupants. The four timber framed double bunks form the only furniture. Each bed has a well worn mattress and a couple of thin blankets that do nothing to keep out the winter chill. Apart from a bucket in the corner of the room for night time ablutions, this is our prison … our world. Locked in behind a steel door when we are not required to work upstairs … and we are required to do that fourteen hours a day. A single light above the door is the room's only illumination and the small grill next to it the only source of air when the door is closed. This room is designed to ensure its occupants are aware of the hopelessness of their situation …. That they are at the complete mercy of the Governess and her associates.

Upstairs is luxury beyond belief as befits one of the most popular 'sporting clubs' in the Capitol. The Carousel is a discrete playground for a select few of Panem's wealthy and famous. Every entertainment imaginable … gambling, dancing, dining and, if the mood takes you, some pleasant personal company for the members at no extra charge.

For a girl from one of the Districts to be granted an entry permit to enter any part of the Capitol is a rarity … unless she's a tribute for the Hunger Games. To be granted a legal work permit to be employed in a club like this is unthinkable. Which of course is why only one of us is here legally.

Katniss Everdeen has a valid work permit … her ticket to getting out of here when her six week contract ends. As victor of the 74th Hunger Games I had expected her to be safe from the predatory grasp of Panem's ruling elite. But I should have known better. She arrived at the club yesterday, a week after I did, although by a much different route. She's still too deep in shock to say much. I don't blame her. Having your belongings and identification papers forcibly taken away and then finding yourself locked in a dingy basement is a shock to anyone's system. I'm just glad Katniss hasn't recognised me … but then, why would she expect to see me here?

Sarah has been here the longest … nearly two years. I admire her courage to survive this hell for that length of time without going insane. In their own way both Nadia and Jacqueline are surviving, but without Sarah to rally them after a bad day … and I'm told there are many more of those than good days … I fear they would sink into despondency. As for me, well I'm here for a specific purpose and that knowledge is what helps me manage to do what is expected of me.

It well after midnight when the five of us are allowed to return to our room to sleep. Katniss and Jacqueline were on light duties tonight and were spared the attentions of the obnoxious stag party on the second floor … Katniss because she's new and a 'special guest' and Jacqueline because she's still recovering from the other night. The fact the person responsible for the bruise on her face was thrown out of the club is poor consolation for the injury inflicted. That the member was given a two week suspension for no other reason than damaging club property reinforces the inequality of our life. Still, I suppose we should be grateful the club imposes some rules to limit over-enthusiasm by its members. As the Governess frequently tells us, the Carousel is not a brothel, although personally I find it difficult to make the distinction.

It's not that I'm afraid of being around rowdy men. I even enjoy it in the right circumstances. Before my arrival here I had spent two months in training as Odin's newest employee. A crash course in many things, not least of which is handling yourself in the midst of a large group of inebriated men. Odin certainly knows how to throw a party and his guests aren't always on their best behaviour … well, in fact … almost never.

"Are you OK, Finch?" asks Sarah as she walks by my bed. As eldest I suppose she feels she needs to play mother to us all. Not that 20 is that much older than my 17 years.

"Yeah. I'm fine. It's just been a long day," I reply. Up at eight; a quick meal before a morning of scrubbing and cleaning the club rooms. Then a change into our uniforms to serve lunch to the members, followed by an afternoon of fetching and carrying anything the members order. After that it's waiting at dinner table followed by whatever evening's entertainment the Governess assigns to us. Most nights it's nothing more than dancing or being a hostess for the members as they gamble and party. Other nights … well … those I prefer not to talk about. I'm just glad Peeta is waiting for me in Valhalla, anxiously waiting for my return.

"I can't believe how well you handled that blond haired guy, Finch" says Nadia peering down from the bunk above mine. "If he'd tried that stunt on me I would have freaked out."

"Yeah. Well it's a trick I picked up during my training," I reply, secretly acknowledging the useful lesson Sigrdrifa had given me while we were working in Odin's hall. Sigrdrifa has many years of experience and is more than willing to educate her new "sister". Of course she also has the advantage of carrying a double headed battleaxe strapped to her back. Not that she ever seems to use it, but her reputation probably means she never needs to. The threat of losing a body part or two if you overstep the mark tends to dampen any man's ardour no matter how drunk he might be. However it's not the presence of the axe that matters, but the disdaining look she taught me that conveys the clear message "only mess with me if you really are that stupid".

"Was that at the last club you worked at?" asks Jacqueline. "What was it called again?"

"Valhalla. Yes … I was taught a lot there in a very short time. I hope to go back there soon."

"If the Governess lets you," sighs Sarah. "In case you hadn't noticed, we're down to four girls here … five if you count Katniss. I overheard the Governess say the next shipment is held up somewhere."

A shipment. I know only too well what Sarah means by 'shipment'. Young people lured into the hands of criminals by fake promises of a better life. Brutes who enslave the young hopefuls before they realise the trap they have fallen into. Violence and threats against loved ones ensure the victim's compliance … plus the false promise that if they behave and work hard then one day they will be free again. Then the captives are smuggled into the Capitol as so much freight to provide cheap labour in sweat shops or hostesses in clubs like the Carousel. Corrupt officials turn a blind eye to the evil practise making it doubly hard for the victim. Even escape doesn't guarantee freedom. Sarah knew a girl who escaped from one of these clubs and went to the authorities. To her horror she was given a six year prison sentence for entering the Capitol illegally. The club wasn't even fined.

Sarah, Nadia and Jacqueline have each arrived here as part of a 'shipment' at different times. Any resistance is soon eradicated by people like the Governess, leaving the girls fearing not only for themselves but for their brothers, sisters and parents. Family who know nothing of the threat of violence hanging over their lives if their sibling or daughter doesn't obey every whim of these monsters. I arrived by a different but equally evil route … a mail order bride sold by her prospective husband to the owners of the Carousel. Of course this mail order bride knew exactly what she was doing and who she was dealing with. Secretly I'm quite pleased how easily I gained entry to the Capitol. I can now move onto the next part of my mission.

Katniss hasn't said how she comes to be here, although I suspect it is to pay back some of the unspoken debt accrued when her sponsors provided her with needed gifts during 74th Hunger Games. Her presence is an added complication to my mission, but one I must deal with. I've no intention of disappointing those relying on me.


	7. 2: A very cold night

Episode 2: Part 2 – A very cold night

Despite the late hour none of us can get to sleep. It is mid winter and the outside temperature must be well below freezing. We have no heating in our room and our sleeveless cotton nightdresses and the two thin blankets on our beds are no match for the cold. By unspoken agreement we all huddle onto my bunk and share our blankets. It's enough to prevent us freezing to death, but sleep is out of the question.

"Well, who's going to tell us all a story?" asks Jacqueline. I think she is secretly hoping Katniss will be our storyteller tonight. A story of how she survived the 74th Hunger Games. Unfortunately Katniss is still very subdued and hasn't said more than a few perfunctory words since her arrival at the Carousel. I'm suddenly aware I'm the next choice as storyteller.

"Tell us about the last place you worked at … the one with the odd name," asks Nadia.

"Valhalla … Hmmm … well … Valhalla takes its name and theme from an ancient legend. Over two thousand years ago there lived a race of fierce warriors who believed that the finest death a man or woman could aspire to was to die valiantly facing your enemy in battle. Only those who prove their courage in this way can hope to be rewarded by entering an afterlife in Odin's great hall … Valhalla. The task of selecting those worthy to enter Valhalla was given to the valkyries …"

"The what-ies?" interrupts Jacqueline.

"The valkyries … Odin's handmaidens … Skogul, Sigrdrifa, Randgrid, Olrun, Mist and others. Their task was to ride onto the field of battle to find any fallen warriors worthy to enter Valhalla. Having found her warrior she places his body across her horse and takes him to Odin. Once there the spirit of the warrior is revived and made welcome among the brotherhood of warriors … free to join the never-ending celebrations and given the right to bore each other for eternity with boasts of their valour and deeds. Plus a bit of serious partying thrown in for good measure."

"It sounds a lot like this place then … except here they're still alive. Nobody gets membership to the Carousel unless the Governess approves. … And what of these ancient women? They were just there for the men's pleasure I suppose," says Jacqueline.

"No. Each was a warrior who earned admission to Odin's hall in her own right. Odin himself chooses those women worthy to serve as one of his handmaidens. He … "

"See … it's just like here. Some guy picks out the pretty girls for his mates to abuse," says Nadia with passion. Our conversation has obviously touched a raw nerve with her. We look at her to see if she will continue her outburst but she mumbles an apology and retreats into herself.

Nadia's outburst has changed everyone's mood and we abandon the storytelling. Anyway, we need to try and get some sleep. Nadia and Sarah move to share one bed while Katniss, Jacqueline and I squeeze into my bunk. It's a tight fit and it takes us a while to get settled. But sleep eventually comes and before we know it morning has arrived.

As usual we are lined up in the ground floor hall for inspection at 9 o'clock. The Governess normally dresses in a club uniform for these inspections but today she is wearing an expensive business suit and is looking a little nervous. Perhaps even she dances to someone else's tune. She foregoes the usual tirade about how slovenly we are and little better than animals. Instead she paces up and down quietly correcting our deportment or appearance until she is happy we are looking our best. At least as good as we can look wearing what remains of our own clothes rather than the uniforms or fancy evening dresses we wear when serving the club members.

The door opens and three men and a woman walk in unannounced. The Governess walks over and greets them politely. We haven't been told what to do so we just stand still.

"Are these all the girls you have?" asks the woman.

"Yes, my lady," replies the Governess. "More are due to arrive any day. There has been some trouble with the shipments. The rebels are … "

"We know," says one of the men abruptly cutting off her explanation. "That's why we are here. Suddenly suitable girls are very hard to come by and nothing must be allowed to spoil the parade and celebrations. We'll take all five of them … you'll get the standard compensation of course."

The Governess lets out a strange mewling sound and her face conveys her shock.

"But … but … my lord, this is Katniss Everdeen," stammers the Governess when she finds her voice. "She's under personal contract to a very special client. A powerful member of …"

The look the man gives the Governess leaves no one in any doubt that whatever contract Katniss was obligated to has just been voided. Katniss says nothing and outwardly remains indifferent to this sudden turn of events.

"Have all their contracts assigned to this corporation," says the man handing the Governess a small card. "Dimitri will stay here to handle the transfer and ensure there are no problems. I shall expect delivery before noon today."

I don't know what problems the man thinks might occur but Dimitri looks more than capable of dealing with anything that might crop up. From his bearing I suspect Dimitri has had military training. The Governess clearly thinks so too and is absolutely livid … soldiers below the rank of colonel are not welcome in the Carousel, and Dimitri doesn't have the look of an officer. The men and the woman depart, leaving Dimitri to handle matters here. Not that there seems much for him to do. We remain standing in line while the Governess goes to make some calls from her office. Dimitri stands in front of us watching for any sign of trouble. He doesn't say anything but his eyes wander all over us. More of Sigrdrifa's advice comes to the forefront of my mind and I return his look … not as a timid lamb being sized up by a wolf, but as warrior to warrior. … Not that I'm a warrior, and there would be nothing I could do to stop him if he chose to amuse himself at my expense.

While I'm glad I accepted Odin's offer to be one of his handmaidens, I've still not quite come to terms with why he chose me. I've no fighting skills whatsoever and have always had to rely on my wits to keep out of trouble. When I first saw Valhalla I even asked Odin "why me?" He simply laughed, saying courage is not the ability to repeat something you have practised and been trained to do, but to stand and face dangers for which you haven't been prepared. I apparently fit the bill by whatever measure he uses so I don't argue any more.

I take a quick look at the other girls and see Sarah, Nadia and Jacqueline standing passively awaiting further orders. But Katniss isn't; her mask of indifference is breaking and I can see she is about to do something rash. She seems to be assessing her chances of escape through the unguarded front door. An alarmingly risky enterprise with many unknown factors. Is the door locked? Is Dimitri armed … and how will he respond? If she made it to the outside, where could she go?

"Eyes front," snaps Dimitri when he detects my furtive look at the other girls. He's good at his job; I'll grant him that. Fortunately Katniss must have arrived at the same assessment of his skills and abandons her attempt at flight for the moment.

The Governess rejoins us a few minutes later carrying an electronic tablet and a bundle of what looks like our identity papers. She hands it to Dimitri who peruses it and makes a sequence of taps onto the screen. He returns the tablet to her and she hands over our papers to Dimitri before turning to face us.

"Your contracts with the Carousel have been reassigned. You are to obey orders from this man. He will escort you to your new place of work."

Without so much as a goodbye the Governess returns to her office and shuts the door.

"A vehicle is waiting for you at the rear entrance. If you are not inside it in five minutes you will face the consequences of disobedience. Now, go and collect your belongings," says Dimitri.


	8. 2: Into the darkness

Episode 2: Part 3 – Into the darkness

The five of us stand there for a moment uncertain what to do. All our belongings were taken from us when we arrived here and we haven't seen them since. Sarah takes it upon herself to be our spokeswoman.

"Please … sir … we don't know where our belongings are. They were taken from us."

Dimitri looks at her as though something slimy had just crawled out from under a stone. "In future you are not to speak unless spoken to. Clearly you are not as well trained as we were lead to believe. If you can't find your belongings then you travel as you are."

With that he turns towards the rear door and leaves us. All of a sudden we are alone. Without a word to anyone Katniss makes a charge for the front door. She has the inner door open before any of us can say or do anything. The front door operates like an air lock. The inner door must be closed before the outer door can be opened. And that is what traps Katniss. The outer door is firmly locked and she can't return to us as the inner door has automatically locked behind her.

I run to the inner door to try and free her, but it is locked from both sides and the electronic locking mechanism doesn't have a local release key. It must be controlled from another part of the building. We can see Katniss through the glass window desperately trying first the outer door, then the inner door. Although we are doubtlessly being watched by the security cameras nobody is rushing towards us.

The minutes tick by and I'm making no progress towards freeing Katniss. The glass is too thick to break and belatedly I realise this air lock is designed to prevent just such an escape. No wonder we were allowed to be left alone. It was a test … a trap … one Katniss fell into in her desperation.

"Finch … we must go to the vehicle now or we'll be too late," says Sarah, urging me to abandon my efforts to free Katniss.

Nadia and Jacqueline seem ready to leave for the vehicle at once and only Sarah's presence holds them back. The three of them are worried about Dimitri's threat of punishment. I briefly think of chastising them for wanting to abandon Katniss, but then I remember they've endured this cruel life style much longer than either Katniss or I.

"Go," I say. "There's no point in all of us being punished. I'm staying here with Katniss. I'll not abandon her."

For a moment Sarah seems ready to stand firm by my side but Nadia and Jacqueline's terrified look leaves her with a dilemma. She makes her decision and takes them to the vehicle. Unable to do anything to help Katniss I simply wait with her until someone arrives.

It's not a long wait … five minutes or so. Dimitri and another man enter. I know better than to resist at this point. … Then darkness. A large thick leather hood is thrown over my head which blocks out all light and sound. The hood is firmly fastened around my arms and chest and my wrists bound behind me. Then I'm guided out of the building and made to sit on a bench in a vehicle. I can't tell if either of two people sat beside me is Katniss. Are Sarah, Nadia and Jacqueline with us? Did they make it to the vehicle in time? No one talks, although I doubt I could hear them if they did.

The vehicle set off on a journey of about twenty minutes. It's a road vehicle rather than a flying craft, so our destination is obviously somewhere else within the Capitol. I detect the door opening and people moving out of the vehicle. Five … perhaps six people. I'm left sat where I am. Then the door closes and we set off again. A much shorter journey … no more than a minute. Again the door opens and a pair of hands grab my shoulders and roughly yank me from the vehicle. … An uncomfortable march across a gravelled area and into a building. … Down some steps and along several corridors. Heavy doors opening and closing as we go. … Finally a shove that sends me falling onto a hard stone floor. The sound of a metal door closing and then silence.

I try to free my wrists but they are bound too tightly. I work hard to keep my breathing steady. This hood must have small holes that restrict the air flow but don't block it entirely. From some unknown quarter of my brain I tell myself that the worst thing I can do is panic or exert myself too much. If I breathe the limited amount of air too fast I'll pass out. Actually, I'm really surprised I'm so calm.

Since trying to free my wrists isn't getting me anywhere I try worming my way out of the hood. I contract my chest and arms as much as I can and attempt to ease the hood up and over my head. It is slow and painful work but it doesn't take me long to realise I'm making progress. I just hope nobody comes along and puts a stop to my efforts.

Half an hour later I succeed in sliding the hood off my head by the simple process of leaning forward and letting gravity and the weight of the hood interact. I quickly take in my surroundings. I'm alone in a dimly lit cell. A metal grill is shut across the only opening and confines me to an area about four metres by three. There's more light from the corridor but all I can see through the grill are the outside of more cells. Is Katniss in one of them?

There's no furniture in the cell so I have to be content with sitting on the floor. I try the bonds confining my wrists again now I can see, but I can't reach the knot. I sit down in frustration. I study the hood lying on the floor. I've never seen anything like it before. It is obviously designed for the purpose it was put to. It even has a small strap attached that could fasten around a captive's neck, holding the hood in place more securely than the rope they used around my chest. I wonder why they didn't use the neck strap. It would be simpler and it would have made it impossible for me to shake the hood free.

Why didn't they fasten the neck strap? … Why? … Oh! Of course! … I was meant to free myself! … I reconsider the task of freeing my hands. The buckle on the hood's neck strap is the only thing that might help. The clasp has an edge that might cut through the thin rope around my wrists with enough effort. I don't waste time before putting my theory to the test.

An hour later I'm tired and aching but free of my bonds. Not that I can go anywhere … or can I? I go to the grill and pull on the door. Unsurprisingly the grill won't open. Well I should have known it wasn't going to be that easy. I try pushing, sliding and lifting the door but it won't budge. I sit down again to think. I carefully look around the cell and sure enough I detect a couple of tiny cameras in the ceiling. I'm being watched. This is someone's idea of entertainment.

Since no one is rushing to my cell to intervene I assume the game isn't over yet. There must be a way out of here and my audience is waiting for me to find it. I would like to refuse to play their game, but I'm picking that if I did they would simply leave me here to die. Besides I need to use the bathroom and I refuse to give the perverts watching me the twisted thrill of watching me relieve myself.

I walk around the cell feeling the walls for any hidden panel or door release. … Nothing. … The floor … Nothing. … The door itself. … Nothing. I study the ceiling which is tantalisingly just out of my reach. Nothing visible in the ceiling apart from the cameras and the light inside a wire mesh fitting. As tempting as trying to smash the cameras might be I know it will only lead to unpleasant consequences. I'm expected to provide a bizarre entertainment for an unknown number of rich and powerful people. These are probably the same people who happily consign young people to die in the Hunger Games arena, so I don't think they would be too concerned if any of their captives die in these cells.

I leap up and grab the wire mesh protecting the cameras and light. The mesh gives slightly and there is an audible click. I can't hold the mesh for long and drop back to the floor. I'm about to jump up again when I notice the grill door is slightly ajar. I go over to the grill and try opening the door. … Success! I'm out of my cell in a flash and checking along the corridor for other captives. All the other doors are unlocked and the cells empty.

At the end of the corridor I come to an open area with a table on which stands a large plate of food and several bottles of water. Behind a screen is what I assume to be a bathroom. Just what I need. I rush behind the screen only to find the room occupied.


	9. 2: Jackpot

Episode 2: Part 4 – Jackpot

"Don't you knock before entering?" says Katniss in mock distress. The tears flowing down her cheeks are from a mixture of fear and relief. Fear of our surroundings; relief she is no longer alone.

First things first. I wait while she finishes and then shoo her out of the bathroom. If I was in less of a rush I would check for hidden cameras first, but a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do.

"You managed to free yourself quickly," I say when I rejoin Katniss.

"I only got free a few minutes before you arrived. They didn't find the blade in the hem of my shift," she replies showing me a tiny razor blade. It's too small to be a lethal weapon, but big enough to cut through the thin rope they used to bind our hands.

"What now?" I ask.

"The only way out is through that door there and I can't find a way of opening it."

I take a look at the door but Katniss is right. This door is controlled from elsewhere and I guess we will have to wait until someone comes. At least we have food and water. We settle down against the wall near the table.

"This is like being in the Hunger Games arena all over again," says Katniss. "Constant danger. Snatching a bite to eat when you can. Insufficient rest. Always dancing to the Gamemakers tune. A perpetual feeling of fear."

"Yes, I agree," I say realising she's right. I quickly bite my tongue. That was careless. Too late!

"And which Hunger Games did you participate in Finch? … Let's see … Definitely not the 70th … or the 71st, 72nd or 73rd. … Could it have been the 74th? But no, how could you have? I was the victor of those games … and there's only ever one victor," says Katniss looking me in the eye.

"Um … I meant from what I've seen on television it must be like that in the arena," I say lamely.

"No … there's something not quite right but I can't figure out what," says Katniss trying to make sense of a puzzle. "Peeta said the girl from District 5 was called Finch. I never paid her much attention in training, and didn't see her close up in the arena, but she had red hair like yours and she was about your size."

"You are not the first person to make the comparison … but as you say, only one tribute walked away from the 74th Hunger Games alive," I say, hoping my evasive response will create a big enough smoke screen to deflect her questioning. I really don't want to try explaining how I come to be here with a hidden audience undoubtedly watching us.

It seems to satisfy her for the moment. Anyway, we don't have long to wait before men come to remove us from this dungeon. From their chatter it seems the timing of Katniss and my escape from our bonds interrupted their lunch so we have been left to wait while they finished their meal.

We are pushed inside the back of a van and driven a short distance to a large mansion set in palatial grounds. Whoever owns this house is wealthy beyond imagination. Katniss and I are escorted inside through a servant's side entrance. At least there are no threats or restraints. Presumably what we've just undergone was our punishment for disobeying Dimitri's orders.

We are taken to a room where twenty or so girls are already lined up waiting. Underfed District girls like us. Sarah, Nadia and Jacqueline are among them and they risk a quick smile of greeting before resuming the passive look which mirrors those of the other girls. Clearly this is some form of inspection parade. Katniss and I join the end of the line. A large woman wearing an army officer's uniform enters the room accompanied by several older women in civilian clothes. She stands facing us.

"Now you are rested you can begin work. You have a busy evening ahead of you. I placed an order for 50 girls but you are all that could be found in the time available. It seems some of Panem's club owners are not as loyal to our Government as they pretend to be. No matter. You'll just have to work twice as hard. Tonight you are privileged to entertain the Guards Regiment of the Panem army. Tomorrow the Guards leave the Capitol to crush the rebellion the Peacekeepers have so far failed to quash. It is fitting the men's last night of entertainment in the Capitol should be provided by District girls."

Even the most seasoned girls in the room are quailing at what she is saying. This will be no ordinary night of entertainment. The Guards are drawn exclusively from the Capitol's citizens … a mixture of adventurers and disgraced sons of wealthy families … and have a reputation for playing rough. It's not surprising many club owners hid their girls. I'm definitely the only girl in the room thinking I've hit the jackpot. This is the very group Odin has sent me to find. I'm careful to mask my feeling of delight. My elation is partly because I've reached where I need to be, and partly because these arrogant people must be scheduled for a very bloody nose on the battlefield tomorrow. All I need to do is get through tonight and then I can return to Valhalla. No more being locked up in cold dingy cells and being treated as a slave.

Not that tonight will be easy. Sigrdrifa said it was much easier in the old days, when a valkyrie simply had to wait until the battle was over before selecting dead warriors worthy of entering Valhalla from those lying on the battlefield. Then it was simple case of throwing the body over your horse and riding back to Valhalla. But that doesn't work any more. The immediate incineration of dead soldiers on the battlefield means there are no bodies for a valkyrie to identify and select. So now the selection must be done beforehand. A valkyrie must use an inner sixth sense to identify a worthy warrior who is soon to die in battle and mark her choice with a kiss.

I don't know the answer to many questions about how this all works. But just as I've miraculously found my way here, I don't question what is obviously Odin's hand at work. Of course Odin is testing me … asking me select warriors who fight for the oppressors of my people … to see inside the person regardless of the uniform they wear. Cato was my first real test in obeying my sixth sense and I came through that test with flying colours.

"You've an hour to clean yourselves up, select some clothes for tonight and prepare yourselves," continues the officer. "These women will show you where to go and help you with your hair and make-up. I expect you to be standing in the exact spot you are standing in now when I return for an inspection. These two have experienced the penalty for failure," she adds pointing to Katniss and I.

We are taken to a large shower room and made to wash. I keep close to Katniss as she is the most likely one among us to try something rash. She turns towards me as we scrub ourselves clean.

"I can't do this. I was supposed to come to the Capitol to be the guest of one of my sponsors from the Hunger Games. Nobody said anything about having to prostitute myself," says Katniss.

I look at her and assess her sincerity. Is she truly that naïve? Did she really think she was brought all the way here for tea and cakes with some wealthy backer. Sadly I realise she is telling the truth.

"You can do this Katniss. I don't pretend it's going to be easy or without pain, but everyone of us here is in the same boat. At least you will be allowed to return to your District afterwards. Not so for the rest of us."

My words shock her into reality although I can she is only just managing to avoid hysteria. I keep close to her as we prepare our hair and make-up, keeping up a light banter which seems to ease her tension. Finally we are all taken to a room where a selection of clothes await us. Like a beacon, my black leather dress draws my attention. Sigrdrifa said my leather dress is like me; it can be torn, shredded, burnt and otherwise destroyed, but it will return in perfect condition when needed. And my personal valkyrie uniform awaits me now.


	10. 2: The ride of the Valkyries

Episode 2: Part 5 – The ride of the valkyries

I claim my dress before any of the other girls take a liking to it. I don't know if my precaution is necessary but there's no point in taking chances. I quickly change into my leather dress and I feel a transformation within me. My inner senses awaken and I become aware of things only moments before were closed to me. In some respect my mind is swamped with all the new information. I find a quiet corner to rest so I can put some order to it all. Katniss comes over an sits beside me.

"Are you OK? You look a little shaken. Don't fall apart on me now … you're the only person keeping me from going crazy," says Katniss.

"Yes. I'll be alright in a minute. It's the smell of the leather … it triggered some memories."

"Hmmm … your dress has triggered memories for me too. I've seen a dress like yours before … at the very end of the Hunger Games … I thought I saw Cato with a red haired girl wearing a dress like this … and again after they announced me as the victor … I briefly saw the same girl standing in Cato's camp. It was only for a moment. When I cleared my eyes she was gone."

"You mean she ran off? How could that be? If another tribute remained the Gamemakers wouldn't have announced you as the victor," I reply. I hate lying to Katniss but telling her the truth at this moment could cause all sorts of problems.

"I know. … She didn't have time to run out of sight. I don't know. Perhaps I was exhausted and imagining things."

After a few minutes I can think clearly again although I still have an uneasy feeling. I shrug it off as due to nerves and my lack of experience as a valkyrie. This is my first solo mission and I'm anxious I don't mess it up.

The time is approaching when we must return for the officer's inspection. Everyone is subdued; fearful of tonight's probable programme. As we file back into the room and line up in our designated place my general sense of unease crystallises into a clearer picture in my mind. The battle I was expecting isn't due tomorrow … it's tonight! Here!

I have only a few seconds to translate my knowledge into action. I walk over to Sarah so I can whisper a quick message to her. "Try and keep Nadia and Jacqueline close tonight and be prepared to make a run for it," I say. My message is cryptic in the extreme but hopefully Sarah will act on it should the opportunity or need arise.

I look around at the bustling staff I can see through the open door. Waiters and waitresses are preparing the tables for a banquet. As I scan them my sixth sense points out three of the waiters. I've no idea what will lead to their death's in battle … they could be innocent bystanders about to sacrifice their lives to protect others, or they could be rebel guerrillas who have infiltrated the Capitol and intent on launching what must be a suicide mission.

My line of though is interrupted by the return of the woman officer. At least she seems moderately pleased with our efforts to look desirable even if we all wish otherwise. She seems particularly taken with my leather dress and comes over for a closer inspection. She is practically rubbing noses with me.

"Is this leather dress just for show or can you actually use it to good effect?" she asks examining my cleavage closely.

"Why yes, Captain. Do you mean like this," I respond with a graceful movement which ends with my arms around her neck and kissing her on the ear. 'One' says my inner mind registering my success in marking my first target. She looks surprised but doesn't admonish my behaviour. The reaction from the other girls to my audacity ranges from amused to disgusted.

The next six hours are a whirlwind of activity. The party is everything we feared it might be. Nevertheless I've marked all seven of the men and women my inner mind says are my targets for tonight. All I can do now is wait for the main event and then disappear. Now I've been taught how to slip cleanly between the world of the living and the afterlife I don't worry about making the same mistake I made with Katniss in the Hunger Games arena. At that time I had no idea what I was doing and kept fading in and out of reality causing her confusion. I won't make that mistake again.

Despite my foreknowledge the burst of gunfire catches me by surprise. The group of waiters I saw earlier suddenly produce weapons and start firing. The officer's table is the main target of the attack and several officer's are hit before they realise what is happening. While the carousing soldiers are unarmed, there are sentries posted at the doors and they quickly rally to return fire. Most people in the room are simply ducking for cover and trying to save themselves. I see Sarah gathering Nadia and Jacqueline and trying to make their way to one of the side rooms.

I should leave for the afterlife now and wait for my chosen warriors. My sister valkyries will be waiting to help me guide them on the long journey to Valhalla. But I suddenly find I can't leave without ensuring Katniss is alright. I scan the room and see her near the officer's table. The woman Captain I marked earlier is trying to shield her and get her to a less exposed position. The fighting is fierce and more armed soldiers arrive and start driving the rebels back. The rebels seem to have prepared for this event and a small rearguard covers the escape of most of their compatriots. I note all three of my chosen rebels are in the rearguard.

Finally the shooting ceases and I promptly slip into the afterlife. I know I'm late and should have left earlier, but I couldn't just run off and leave people I knew and cared about. Waiting for me is my horse … did I mention a perk of my job is I get my own horse? A beautiful grey Andalusian stallion … and eight of my sister valkyries, among them Sigrdrifa, Randgrid and Mist. The bodies of my seven chosen warriors are already across all but my and Sigrdrifa's horses. My sister valkyries give me a brief salute before they depart, leaving Sigrfrida and I behind for the moment.

"Ah! Like the old days," sighs Sigrdrifa almost wistfully. "A uncleared battleground for a valkyrie to wander."

"Not for long, I suspect," I reply. "Order is likely to be restored soon and the bodies of those slain will be removed. Won't they miss the ones we've taken?"

"No. The body we take to Valhalla is the person's soul. The physical body remains where it is. Come, we shall make a quick tour of the battleground and I'll show you how we used to do this business in the old days."

We need to be quick as reinforcements are streaming in to the building and panic stricken survivors leaving as fast as they can. I catch a glimpse of Katniss being lead away by two soldiers. She seems shaken but otherwise unharmed. She is busy looking about her as if she is trying to find people she knows. But no one can see Sigrdrifa and I.

I'm surprised how few rebels are among the dead. Did most of them escape? We walk into the room where the rebel rearguard fought to the last. There are the physical bodies of my chosen three. To my horror I also see Sarah's body. The weapon in her lifeless hand says she must have chosen to fight and die with the rebel rearguard rather than try to escape or surrender.

Sigrdrifa sees my pain at the sight of Sarah. "Touch her forehead and you will know what fate befell her and you can judge her," she says. I do as Sigrdrifa says and in an instant I understand so much of Sarah's life … and death. I recall Odin's definition of true courage and know it describes Sarah perfectly.

"She fought so others could escape. She died a warrior's death and is worthy to enter Valhalla," I say. They are the ritual words I've been taught although I hadn't expected to use them so soon.

"Then you know what to do," says Sigrdrifa. I do. Slipping into the afterlife I gently place Sarah's body across my horse before mounting myself. Sigrdrifa mounts her horse and looks toward me. "Come, sister, let us ride to Valhalla."

[end of episode 2]


	11. 3: Reflection

Episode 3: Part 1 – Reflection

"You are looking very sad for someone who has pulled off one of the most difficult missions in a very long time. To bring eight warriors to Valhalla on your first solo mission is truly spectacular. Your sister valkyries all speak highly of your actions," says Odin as we sit together in a quiet antechamber to the main hall.

It's three days since my return from the Capitol and my initial flush of euphoria has given way to melancholy. This is partly due to my concern about the unknown fate of friends I had to leave behind … Nadia, Jacqueline and Katniss. The other cause of my sadness is the knowledge that the close bond between Peeta and I has almost certainly waned. It's my own fault I suppose … when I brought Sarah back to Valhalla I made a point of asking Peeta to make sure she was well looked after. I've never been a believer in love at first sight but as soon as Peeta and Sarah locked eyes on each other I knew I would now be second choice for Peeta's affections. We're still friends but the intimacy has gone. Perhaps it will be for the best … a valkyrie's life doesn't fit comfortably with long term relationships in either world.

Of course no one is forcing me to be one of Odin's handmaidens. Most valkyrie decide they have had enough at some point and choose never to return to the world of the living. Only then can they enter the other parts of heaven. Sigrdrifa told me Odin is very understanding in this respect and never complains. But I don't feel like giving up being a valkyrie just yet. All my immediate predecessors quit after only a short time so I'm the only serving valkyrie born within the last 100 years. Somehow that makes me feel special … or there again, it could be due to my natural stubbornness.

"The mission took a lot out of me. I don't feel the same as I did before. I'm definitely a different person," I reply.

"Yes, I suspect that is so. Your mission was far more difficult than any of us anticipated and it demanded huge sacrifices from you. Sacrifices most seasoned valkyries would baulk at … but you didn't, even though it was your first mission alone. When you left here you were a girl, and you've returned a woman."

Not for the first time I recognise Odin's amazing perception. He's right. At least insofar as I'm definitely no longer a girl, despite being away for little more than a week. But somehow simply calling me a woman doesn't seem an adequate description either. There are many names that label the sort of person I had to be for most of my week away. Very uncomplimentary and hurtful names … but accurate nonetheless. Should I feel shame? … or regret? … or anger? Because I don't feel any of those emotions … but is it right that I don't?

Sigrdrifa thought she was complementing me when she said that despite everything I never took the easy option of moving from the world of the living into the afterlife to save myself from the distasteful acts required of me during my mission. I was fully aware I could escape at any time … but at what cost? My mission would be blown, and probably with it my new life as a valkyrie. And what of Nadia, Jacqueline and Katniss? They couldn't escape like I could … I would be deserting them. Sigrdrifa's remark wasn't a complement … it only confirmed there is something odd about me. To perform such acts because you have no option is one thing … but to do so knowing you can break free at any time takes a certain amount of … what? … perversity? … masochism? … or is it courage? Loyalty to friends? … I simply don't know.

Long before I became a tribute for the Hunger Games I had a niggling feeling I wasn't normal. But I could never work out what my abnormality was. Most of my girlfriends at home like boys looking at them, so the pleasure I get when I detect someone admiring me … even openly desiring me … doesn't seem out of place. It wasn't until I met Mist here in Valhalla that I began to sense where my abnormality lies. Mist is one of those women who exude beauty and attractiveness without thinking. But she never encourages an admirer and woe-betide any man who oversteps her invisible line between acceptable and unacceptable behaviour. She is like a magnificent painting … nice to look at but not much fun at a party. Where I go beyond my imagined boundary of normality is in the pleasure I feel if my admirer does more than look and goes a step further … within reason.

While I'm in Valhalla I help serve at the tables in Odin's hall, and generally lend a hand. There is non-stop partying going on. While it is all good-natured fun, it can get quite boisterous. So I've never been surprised when the occasional slap, pinch or roaming hand lands on my body as I pass through the crowd. In fact I can tolerate quite a lot of physical contact without feeling the need to reprimand the offender. Of course there are those like Peeta and Mist who point out that my short black leather dress encourages such behaviour and I get what I deserve. I don't disagree with those who say that, but I've no intention of changing my dress.

"I didn't do a very good job at helping Nadia, Jacqueline or Katniss. I could have used my abilities to save them from the worst of what we had to endure at the Carousel," I say.

"That wasn't why you were there. A valkyrie isn't all-powerful or all-knowing. Immortality doesn't prevent you from being hurt … emotionally or physically. Wearing your leather dress amplifies your powers but you still need to use good judgement."

"Peeta says my dress is provocative and I should wear something more modest. Do you think he's right?"

"You know the answer to that question. Like all valkyries you designed your dress yourself. Do you remember? … That night before you entered the Hunger Games arena. You may not have realised what you were doing at the time, but it is an essential part of becoming a valkyrie."

"I drew several different designs of clothing. Why was this design chosen over the others? If I remember correctly I also drew a dress like my school uniform."

"Ha ha ha, so you did! I chose this design because in your heart this is the one you like best of all. You like being admired and this dress most certainly catches a person's eye. You already have at least a score of men wanting to be your lover. Look at young Cato. He's yours for the asking."

"I don't know how I feel about Cato. He wasn't very nice to me during the Hunger Games. And Peeta said it was Cato who actually killed me in the arena."

"Yes, but you have no recollection of that act. No valkyrie can ever recall a fatal injury inflicted upon her. As for Cato, he is like all the other tributes in the Hunger Games … a young person doing what they must do to survive, no matter how brutal and unpleasant. After all, you were the one who bestowed your kiss on him and in doing so granted him the right to enter Valhalla."

"Only because you made me."

"No. Not at all. I do not influence a valkyrie's decision about who to choose or reject. I merely guide you to a location where you may have the opportunity to make a choice. There is no quota you must fill, nor are there any rules about how often you must return to the world of the living. In your case, though, I suspect you wish to spend more time with the friends you made on your last mission. Undoubtedly Katniss will appreciate your friendship and help. From what you told me she is ill-equipped to handle the demands of being a Hunger Games victor. "

I agree with Odin's assessment of Katniss. She was totally unprepared for her visit to the Carousel. Fortunately for her she has the victor's tour of Panem coming soon, so she will have been returned to District 12 by now. But once the tour is over she will once again be a pawn in the evil game these people play.


	12. 3: A break away from duties

Episode 3: Part 2 – A break away from duties

"I can't help feeling I could have done more to help Nadia and Jacqueline. I can't understand how a civilised society permits such evil to exist within it. Young people trafficked like slaves and forced to live and work like that. It makes me so angry to think the law does nothing to punish the criminals," I fume.

"The law does nothing because the people of the Capitol passively allow the kidnapping and trafficking of young people. There are even those in the Districts who not only tolerate it but actively participate in the practise," says Sigrdrifa, who has joined Odin and I in our reflection.

"Hasn't it always been so?" I ask.

"Not to the same degree. There have always been those with power and wealth who abuse it, but what a society permits and tolerates changes over time," says Odin. "If your friends mean that much to you then why don't you return to Panem and search for them."

"I'm allowed to do that? I thought I had to stay in Valhalla when I wasn't required for a mission. Sigrdrifa, Randgrid and Mist only ever leave when you have a task for them."

"You are most certainly allowed to leave Valhalla. Your time is your own to do as you wish. As before, your leather dress will appear when there may be need of your services. Despite their appearance your sister valkyries are much older than you. All the people they knew are long gone, as is the world they lived in before they became my handmaidens. Panem and the people in it belong to your world. You are the only valkyrie who knows the customs and laws well enough to stay in the current world of the living for any length of time. That's why you had to handle your last mission alone."

A break away from my duties in Valhalla is just what I need to sort out my emotions and I gratefully accept Odin's advice. Before long I'm mounted on my horse and riding to where I can pass into the word of the living. I've changed into a regular blouse and trousers that wouldn't look out of place anywhere in Panem. Sarah told me an address in District 6 where I could enquire about Nadia and Jacqueline. She firmly believes they escaped with the retreating rebels. Katniss should be easier to find since the Hunger Games Victory Tour is in a few weeks and I only need to match my movements with her itinerary.

I'm taking a risk returning to Panem. I've no identification papers and no money. Once I'm in the world of the living I must eat and sleep just like everyone else. Earning money requires a job and getting a regular job requires identification papers. I've no intention of returning to the type of work I was required to do last time I was in Panem.

I find a quiet place in District 6 near to where Sarah advised me to enquire about Nadia and Jacqueline. A silently slip into the world of the living and pause to take in the different sensations around me. It's early evening and most people are in their homes well ahead of the 9 o'clock curfew. So far so good. My arrival has not been noticed and I'm only a couple of streets away from the address Sarah gave me.

I walk about 20 metres to the nearest street corner. I've decided to walk about as though I belong here rather than sneak about. Security cameras are probably placed to scan all the main streets of a town this large and anyone moving about suspiciously is likely to be arrested within minutes. Of course there is a chance I might meet a peacekeeper patrol and be asked to produce the identification papers I don't possess, but that is a lesser risk.

I see just such a patrol at the other end of the street as I near my intended destination. Fortunately they aren't being particularly vigilant and I enter the small hotel at the address I've been given before the patrol sees me. The elderly man at the reception desk seems surprised at the arrival of such a late visitor. The name badge on his chest shows him to be the hotel proprietor and his name is Sam.

"You're taking a chance, young lady," says Sam. "Curfew begins in ten minutes. Or didn't you know they changed the curfew times after the terrorist attack on the Capitol earlier this week."

"Oh! No, I didn't know. I've been … um … away from town for a while."

"I doubt the peacekeepers will swallow that tale. Anyway, are you wanting a room? Payment up front I'm afraid … times are hard."

"Er … no thanks. I'm actually looking for a couple of friends. Nadia Greenwood and Jacqueline Beauchamp. I was told I might be able to find them here."

"Can't help you. As I've already told the peacekeepers I've not seen either of them for months," says Sam, suddenly becoming less friendly.

"Oh. But you do know them then?" I ask.

"I thought you said you were a friend of theirs. If you are then you wouldn't need to ask that question. I think you'd better leave now," he says in a more hostile tone.

"Look, I'm sorry. I don't know much about their lives before I met them a week or so ago. After the attack in the Capitol I lost contact with them. I just want to make sure they are safe. Our mutual friend Sarah Rosenberg suggested I try here."

"I don't know what game you're playing, girl, but Sarah Rosenberg died with a gun in her hand. Some people around here call her a traitor … others a patriot … either way she's dead. So exactly how did she manage to tell you to come here? Next you'll be telling me dead people talk to you. Now how about you go and rejoin your peacekeeper friends outside and stop pestering law abiding citizens."

This isn't going as well as I hoped. But I suppose I should have realised people would be suspicious. I've gleaned some information though … the fact the peacekeepers are looking for Nadia and Jacqueline suggests they did escape with the rebels as Sarah believes. I'll have to try a different approach.

"Alright, I'll leave. I'm sorry to have troubled you. If you do see them please will you tell them Finch was asking after them."

I walk out of the door practically straight into the peacekeeper patrol. With only minutes to the start of the curfew they are clearly suspicious.

"Papers please, miss," says one of the peacekeepers, blocking my path.

"Um … I've left them in my room. I was in such a rush with the curfew about to start. Let me go back and get them."

"That was careless. And where are you going at this late hour?"

"I was feeling hungry and wanted to buy some food from the store down the road."

"That store is closed for the night so it would be a wasted journey. Here's what we'll do … I'll escort you back to your room … you show me your papers … and then you can show me how grateful you can be for not being arrested for being outside without papers. How does that sound?"

There are times when I wish I had Sigrdrifa's battle axe because at the moment I could happily use it on this creep.


	13. 3: A new dancer at the Red Dragon Inn

Episode 3: Part 3 – A new dancer at the Red Dragon Inn

"Um … Sure," I reply to the peacekeeper's repulsive offer.

I re-enter the hotel with the three peacekeepers as escort. At first Sam just watches and says nothing as we walk towards the stairs. I know I could simply slip into the afterlife at any time and escape, but that kind of disappearing act in front of witnesses would ruin any chance I have of finding Nadia and Jacqueline. Besides, it is considered bad style for a valkyrie to escape from trouble in that fashion. Now I've been accepted as a fully fledged valkyrie I've a certain professional standard to maintain.

"Hold on! Where do you think you are going?" calls Sam when I reach the bottom of the stairs.

"The girl's room," replies first peacekeeper. "We found her outside without papers so she's under suspicion of being a terrorist."

"A terrorist! … Her? … Ha ha ha ha … That's a good one," laughs Sam.

"Unless you have the girl's papers I suggest you keep your opinion to yourself, old man," says the first peacekeeper. "Particularly since your granddaughter is wanted for questioning about the attack in the Capitol." He waves his stun-stick in Sam's general direction to reinforce his threat. "For all we know this girl is one of your granddaughter's accomplices."

"Nadia has done nothing wrong. She wouldn't hurt a fly. Anyway, as I've already told you, I've not seen or heard from her since she accepted that job in the Capitol you arranged for her and her friend."

"I thought I told you never to talk about that favour we did for your family. Now you've let this girl in on our little arrangement. OK girlie, forget the papers … we'll be taking you with us now," says the first peacekeeper suddenly becoming very tense.

"Where are you taking her?" says Sam. "She has nothing to do with all this. What's going on? Helping my granddaughter to find a good job isn't illegal, so what's all the fuss about?"

"The sort of help they provide would fetch twenty years in prison with hard labour," I say having a sudden insight of what is going on. "They're human traffickers … they sell young women to certain establishments in the Capitol for a large amount of money. "

"For someone so small you've got a big mouth, girlie … and no brains," snarls the first peacekeeper. The other two peacekeepers are looking very nervous.

"She's just making wild guesses Marco," says the second peacekeeper. "She's trying to stir up trouble."

"Yeah … of course she is. But uninformed rumours can do a lot of harm. … So I suggest you come with us quietly girl," says Marco grabbing my arm. I don't resist.

Sam looks as though he's about to do something brave but very rash. He has probably realised that Nadia's fate was what I just described. I signal him to stay where he is and not intervene.

"Where are you taking her?" asks Sam despite my attempts to keep him out of this.

"None of your business, but don't worry, we'll not harm her," says Marco, not very convincingly.

They handcuff my hands behind my back and march me off down the street. I'm not the least bit surprised when I see our destination is not peacekeeper headquarters but the back door of a tavern in the seedier part of town. Marco raps on the door in a coded sequence of knocks. After a short pause the door opens a middle-aged woman answers the door.

"We've a new girl for you to look after for a few days, Aggie. Usual deal," says Marco.

"I thought you were lying low for a while after the rebels started interfering with your shipments. I was stuck with the last one you left for nearly three weeks. This one will have to earn her keep. I'm not made of money," grumbles Aggie.

"Alright … But you break her in right, and don't let anyone damage the goods," says Marco as he removes my handcuffs and pushes me through the door. He and his men make a hasty exit.

"What's your name, girl?" says Aggie taking a close look at me.

"Finch. … I would like to leave now."

"You're not very smart are you. You'll not be going anywhere on your own for a long time. I don't know how you came to run foul of Marco and his boys, but you'll regret that mistake for a long time. Now I'll explain how things are going to be while you are here at the Red Dragon Inn."

Aggie goes to some length detailing what I could easily guess. If she thinks I'm a bit slow on the uptake then that will work to my advantage when I finish identifying all the players in this evil chain of flesh traders. When I'm good and ready I'll make sure every one of them gets what they deserve. Then I can go back to looking for Nadia and Jacqueline. In the meantime I'll play the not-too-bright helpless victim of their criminal activities.

Aggie takes me through to the public part of the inn. Business is surprisingly good despite the early curfew. She has already made it clear that any attempt by me to enlist one of the patrons to help me escape is doomed to failure. All those here after curfew are breaking the law so aren't likely to risk Aggie's wrath by meddling in her business activities.

"Now do you have any experience in working in a place like this?" asks Aggie.

"Some. I've done a few weeks work at Valhalla. I can wait tables and dance a bit."

"Never heard of Val...whatever it's called. Well you'll find some clothes in the back room there. Find something alluring and go out and keep the patrons happy. If you do a good job you'll get to sleep in a bed upstairs, otherwise it's the floor of the cellar."

I go into the back room and rummage through a small collection of dresses. My leather dress would come in handy but it isn't here. I pick out a couple of dresses that might do and hold them up to the mirror.

"The yellow one," says a voice behind me. I turn in surprise and face the young man standing in the doorway. My heart skips a beat when I see how intently he is watching me.

"What are you doing here, Pablo," says Aggie. "This room is off limits to patrons. You know that."

"I just wanted to say 'hi' to your new barmaid," says Pablo.

"Well now you've done that you can go back and join your friends," says Aggie in a polite but no-nonsense tone.

Despite my predicament I can't help but smile as Pablo blows me a kiss before leaving me. Aggie scowls but says nothing. I look at the dresses again and decide Pablo is right … the yellow dress is the best choice.


	14. 3: A package for shipment

Episode 3: Part 4 – A package for shipment

It is about 2 am before the last of the patrons leaves by the Inn's back entrance. The lack of concern about being caught on the street after curfew suggests some special arrangements for trouble free passage have been made. I wouldn't mind betting Marco and his men are involved in that scheme.

Aggie seems content with my night's work and says I can sleep in a bed upstairs tonight. I'm glad as I really didn't want to sleep on the cellar floor. I'm playing the obedient and submissive captive because there's nothing to be gained by unnecessarily antagonising Aggie at this stage. Her part in the human smuggling ring is nothing more than proprietor of a hideout for holding girls in transit. She clearly works alone here and I must simply wait for the next link in the chain to reveal themselves.

At least tonight's work was pleasant despite the circumstances. I didn't have to worry about anyone asking me for identification papers I don't possess, and I'm being fed well enough. Pablo and his friends stayed a long time and certainly enjoyed my dance routine … something the Carousel insisted its girls be capable of providing for the guests.

My room is small but comfortable. There's a single bed with a mattress in reasonable condition. Three blankets and a pillow provide enough warmth to let me sleep properly. Of course the door is locked from the outside, and the window is barred, but that doesn't come as any great surprise to me. I settle down for the night and wait to see what will happen tomorrow.

My door is unlocked not long after dawn and a woman I've not seen before tells me to dress and follow her downstairs. She returns my own clothes and as soon as I'm dressed she escorts me to the bathroom. I'm not allowed any privacy and the woman seems slightly surprised at my lack of protest. Of course she doesn't know I've already learned to cope with that humiliation while I was at the Carousel. I've already decided to confuse them with a display of unusual compliance to their orders. My experience at the Carousel taught me that a certain amount of resistance is expected from a captive girl, and when it doesn't occur the minders get confused and careless.

My reward for being ready so quickly is that we are far too early for the next stage of whatever is to happen. Aggie is busy when we arrive in the back office and my minder and I are told to wait in the next room. I sit patiently and listen intently to what Aggie is saying over the telephone. It doesn't take me long to realise the conversation is about me.

"What do you mean you can't find her papers? … What about her clothes? … Nothing? … What did the hotel proprietor say? … He must be lying? The girl couldn't possibly have made it though the checkpoints on the edge of town without some form of identification … No, you are not leaving her here another day … You know what happened last time. My patrons got suspicious when the girl was eventually moved on … This one's already attracted the attention of a few of the men … No, she's been unusually well behaved. I'd be happy to keep her here permanently if she wasn't worth so much in the Capitol. … That's your problem … OK, I'll see what I can find out, but I want here gone from here before we open at lunchtime."

A few minutes later my minder is dismissed and Aggie takes me into her office. If I didn't know better I could be fooled into thinking this was a friendly fireside chat about my future career prospects in the bright lights of the Capitol. I suppose some girls must fall for it and to give Aggie her due she's a good saleswoman. The extra questions added to her normal patter almost go by unnoticed. Almost. Had I any identification papers they would provide a wealth of information about me. Without them Aggie must rely on the answers I give. It is easy to create a believable cover story of how I ran away from home and was robbed of all my possessions. It will take them days to establish my cover story is false, by which time I should have all the information about their network I need.

I've still to decide what I intend to do with the information I'm gathering. One option is to enlist Sigrdrifa and Randgrid's help. For hundreds of years they've taken it upon themselves to personally discourage the practise of kidnapping their sister valkyries. From what Skogul told me the result tends to be very messy, so I'm not certain letting Sigrdrifa loose with her battle axe is the right option. If I can find a high ranking law enforcement officer I could trust I'll be able to provide him or her with my evidence and let Panem law take its course. But trustworthy high ranking law enforcement officers are in short supply.

I'm made to wait another couple of hours during which time I'm given breakfast and put to work cleaning the public rooms ready for opening time at noon. Aggie said on the telephone earlier that she wanted me gone before then. But what Aggie wants and what Aggie gets are two different things. A telephone call just before opening time obviously changes things. The next thing I know I'm being told to change into a clean dress and come and help serve meals.

The patrons at lunchtime are a different group to those who were here last night. With one exception … Pablo. He tries to make a beeline for me when he sees me on duty, but Aggie promptly sends me to help in the kitchen before Pablo and I can say more than a quick hello. That doesn't stop Pablo from sitting where he can get a glimpse of the activity in the kitchen. As far as I can tell he intends to sit there all afternoon. I'm sure Pablo noticed when two men enter the Inn and go straight into the kitchen.

I know the two men from my time in the Capitol. Gregor and Ivan are both minders who work at the Carousel. Their job is to keep the girls in their place and the club members from stepping out of line. Gregor isn't normally too bad but Ivan is just plain mean and treats girls like dirt.

"Is this our package for shipment, Aggie? … Hey! I didn't expect to see you again so soon, girlie," says Ivan with a sneer.

"Strangely, I expected to see you at some point," I reply disguising my slight discomfort at being recognised.

"You two know each other?" says Aggie, slightly alarmed. "How come?"

"This girl is already the property of the Carousel. She managed to escape our care during the fracas in the Capitol. I don't know how she managed to get this far but now she's back in our custody she can tell us all about how she escaped. I bet you're sorry to see us again, girlie," says Ivan.

"My name is Finch, not girlie … and, no, I'm not sorry to see you again. As I said, I expected to see you again," I snap more than a little irritated everyone around here insists on calling me girlie.

"A likely tale … No matter. Aggie, get her changed and have her ready to leave in five minutes. The Governess will be happy to get one of her girls back. If you know the whereabouts of the other two who escaped with you I recommend you tell us now, girlie. It will save so much unpleasantness later on."

"Hey … I trust I'm still going to be paid," says Aggie. "It's not my fault you can't keep hold of your girls."

"Yeah … Don't worry. You'll get paid. Now hurry up before your patrons start getting suspicious."

Aggie does as she is told and escorts me to the room I've been using. She waits while I change back into my own clothes. As we walk downstairs to the kitchen she suddenly stops and looks at me carefully.

"I always thought there was something strange about you, Finch. You puzzle me. You handle yourself with too much confidence to be some innocent victim of this business. Who are you really?"

"Me? I'm just a valkyrie on a personal mission, Aggie. Now come on, we had better not keep Gregor and Ivan waiting any longer," I reply, knowing she is probably no wiser for my answer.


	15. 3: Trouble in the alley

Episode 3: Part 5 – Trouble in the Alley

A perplexed Aggie hands me over to Gregor and Ivan in exchange for an envelope which I presume contains her payment. Gregor promptly handcuffs me with my hands behind my back and we immediately leave by the back entrance. As soon as we are outside I see an expensive car parked in the side alley. It's one of the Carousel's fleet of vehicles which are luxurious even by the Capitol's standards. Here in District 6 the car sticks out like a sore thumb and unsurprisingly has attracted quite a few spectators.

Gregor mutters a few oaths and holds me back while Ivan moves towards the car. Ivan opens his jacket to reveal a highly illegal weapon in his belt.

"Clear off you lot," growls Ivan.

Most of the spectators understand Ivan's unambiguous threat and promptly go about their business. A small group seem slower on the uptake and continue to mill about a few metres from the car. Gregor decides he can't wait any longer and frog-marches me towards the car. One of the spectators steps forward before we reach the car.

"You're not taking this girl with you," says the man, not the least bit intimidated by Ivan's earlier threat.

Never one for long conversations, Ivan immediately pulls out his weapon. But before he can take aim there's a flash and the familiar crackling sound from an energy weapon. Ivan collapses to the ground. I've no idea where the shot came from but I'm pleased to see there are some people in District 6 prepared to stand up for justice. Instinctively Gregor grabs me and uses me as a human shield while we re-enter the Inn. The kitchen staff make a run for it leaving Aggie, Gregor and I alone in the kitchen.

"Aggie. Get your tame peacekeeper on the telephone and tell him he's needed over here," orders Gregor. Aggie complies.

"I can't reach anybody," she says a few moments later. "The phone line must be cut."

While Aggie is near to panic, Gregor is his usual unruffled self. Anyone would think this is an everyday occurrence in Gregor's life. He readies his weapon and checks the kitchen and adjoining rooms for anyone else. We seem to be alone. The inn's patrons must have scattered when the fracas started.

An explosion in the alley shatters the kitchen window. Pieces of glass fly everywhere and catch all three of us. Gregor and I suffer some minor cuts but Aggie is badly injured. She stumbles into me and I do what I can to staunch the deep cuts to her arms and upper body.

"Take Aggie down to the cellar and see what you can do to help her," says Gregor as he unlocks my handcuffs.

The cellar is probably the safest place at the moment … as long as no one tries to set fire to the inn. Aggie and I half stumble and half crawl down the narrow steps into the cellar. There's a small sink at one end of the cellar and I quickly clean the worst of both Aggie and my the wounds. Compared to Aggie, my wounds are superficial and will soon heal. Aggie, however, is losing a lot of blood which suggests an artery has been cut. I find a piece of cloth that will do as a tourniquet and try my best to stop the flow of blood. Unfortunately the location and size of the cut means I can only slow the flow and in less than a minute Aggie slips into unconsciousness. I keep trying to stop the flow but I soon realise I'm fighting a losing battle.

My valkyrie inner sense tells me when Aggie slips into the afterlife so I know when to give up my efforts. I'm covered in Aggie's blood and my clothes are probably beyond cleaning and repair. I've no idea whether it is instinct or coincidence that makes me open a cupboard door to reveal my black leather valkyrie dress. I promptly wash and change into my leather dress.

"What's going on down there," calls Gregor from the kitchen upstairs.

"Aggie's dead. I'm just cleaning myself up and changing clothes," I reply.

"Then get back up here as soon as you're done. It's quiet now. We're leaving."

As before, my inner senses multiply a thousandfold as soon as I'm wearing my valkyrie dress. Gregor is seriously mistaken if he believes everything is quiet and people have gone home. I sense a battle in the making. Odin hasn't sent my dress simply because I need a change of clothes. He's sent it because I'm required to perform my duties as a valkyrie. Only one warrior this time. I don't recognise who at the moment … not Gregor thankfully.

I return upstairs as soon as I'm ready. If Gregor is surprised to see me in my black leather dress he doesn't say anything. He handcuffs me again, although this time with my hands in front of my body.

"Any trouble and you know what will happen," he says unnecessarily. In truth I'm not certain he would kill a defenceless hostage if it came to it, but I'm not going to put him to the test unless I must.

He opens the back door and using me as a shield we step into the alley. There's no sign of anybody, but the car is a wreck. That was what exploded before. Gregor mutters a few oaths and pushes me ahead of him along one wall of the alley. He keeps scanning for an ambush but can't see anyone. Of course he lacks my inner senses that tell me six people are hidden just out of sight.

"Stop right there and lay down your weapon," comes a voice from behind a metal rubbish skip just ahead of us. I recognise the voice … it's Sam. He must have accepted my statement that I'm looking for Nadia and Jacqueline as the truth.

Gregor takes immediate action. He pulls me towards him and points his automatic weapon at my head. "No way. One false move and she dies," replies Gregor. "You throw down your weapon and move where I can see you."

I could slip into the afterlife at this point leaving Gregor exposed, but that would ruin my task of selecting the worthy warrior Odin believes is about to die here. Of course, the final selection of a warrior is mine to make, but Sigrdrifa told me that Odin is rarely mistaken.

It's all over in ten seconds. The man who stopped Ivan earlier moves out of cover some distance away and Gregor turns he and I to face the man. Sam then steps out to the side of us and fires his weapon. I feel the heat from Sam's energy weapon as it misses me by centimetres. It catches Gregor in the side of his body and he staggers from the blow. But Sam's shot isn't a clean kill. Gregor pushes me forward and fires at Sam, hitting him squarely in the chest. But without me to shield him, Gregor is exposed and three more shots from different quarters strike Gregor and end the battle.

I quickly move over to Sam and lean over him. He is already dead so I recite the ritual words "He died a warrior's death and is worthy to enter Valhalla". In a few moments I will enter the afterlife so I can carry Sam to Valhalla and complete my task for Odin.

The sound of peacekeeper sirens causes my rescuers to scatter. I quickly return to Gregor's body and locate the key to my handcuffs. Once free of the handcuffs I hide behind the rubbish skip and slip into the afterlife. My horse is waiting for me … I've no idea how it knows when and where I'll arrive … and I place Sam's body across the saddle. Once I'm mounted we set off for Valhalla where hopefully Sam can tell me where to find Nadia and Jacqueline.

[end of episode 3]


	16. 4: Return to District 6

Episode 4: Part 1 – Return to District 6

I've had to do many risky things in my life, and what I'm about to do ranks among the riskiest. Usually when I'm forced to take chances it is because I have no choice. I learned at an early age I had little control over my life. Like any District boy or girl I was an expendable pawn in the games more powerful people play. Since becoming a Valkyrie … one of Odin's handmaidens … I've had much more freedom. A freedom I'm still trying to come to terms with. A freedom that means the only person responsible for my current situation is me.

It is a week since I left District 6 in order to carry Sam back to Valhalla. Like the other men and women I have brought to Odin's great hall, Sam earned the right to enter Valhalla by showing courage in battle. Courage that meant sacrificing his life to help another person … in Sam's case that person was me. Consequently I felt awkward and embarrassed when Sam thanked me for bringing him to Valhalla. It was I who owed him thanks for his valiant efforts to free me. Had I not been in District 6 looking for his granddaughter Nadia and her friend Jacqueline I wouldn't have been kidnapped and in apparent need of rescue. It was a rescue I greatly appreciated. I had no desire to be forcibly taken back to the Capitol, and in particular to the Carousel club. … But I was never in any real danger. My return there would have been an inconvenience … a major one … but I can't say preventing it was worth Sam's life. The shadowy people who own and operate the Carousel and its illegal activities are beyond the reach of even high ranking law officers. Their wealth and power ensures their protection; their downfall can only be accomplished by overthrowing President Snow's entire regime.

I've returned to District 6 in order to resume my search for Nadia, Jacqueline and Katniss. The Hunger Games Victor's Tour will be in District 6 next Thursday and I plan to see Katniss while she is here. At least I know where she is even if I don't know how she is coping with the pressure of being a victor. I think she has finally accepted that winning in the arena isn't the end of her involvement with the Capitol. Her discovery that her troubles were only just beginning had left her in shock when I last saw her.

Finding Nadia and Jacqueline will be much harder. Sam had been telling the truth when he said he hadn't seen either of them for months. But he had recently heard rumours they were hiding with a rebel group somewhere in District 6. Unfortunately that information came from the peacekeepers searching for Nadia and Jacqueline, so I've no means of verifying the accuracy of the rumours.

At least I'm better prepared this visit. Sam told me where he had hidden some cash in the back yard of his now closed hotel. Something else for which I'm indirectly responsible. Sam died in an fight with a man from the Capitol. The fact that the Capitol man was an armed kidnapper and Sam an honest District man doesn't alter the law's presumption that Sam is the guilty party. Of course the presence of an illegal weapon in Sam's hand and the disappearance of the kidnapped victim … me … will have only reinforced the peacekeepers' case. If I was the sensitive sort of person I would probably curl up and withdraw into a major guilt trip over what happened. But life is what it is and the deaths of Sam, Aggie, Gregor and Ivan weren't by my hand so I'm not going to feel guilty.

Retrieving Sam's hidden cash was easy. It isn't so much that anyone finding me carrying it would be suspicious, but it's enough to cover my living expenses for a short while. Now all I need are some valid identification papers. It was the absence of papers that put me in the fix that nearly resulted in me being a prisoner at the Carousel again.

Sam gave me the address of a local hardware store. He said I should go there and ask for Hal. Hal apparently knows a thing or two about obtaining identification papers by unofficial means. Forgeries or not, I suspect Hal's activities are highly illegal so I can't just walk in and ask for some papers as though I was requesting a box of nails. Still … it's a start.

Which brings me to my present predicament. I've successfully reached a street corner within sight of the store, only to find the peacekeepers have established a fortification on the street right outside the store. No fewer than six heavily armed peacekeepers are stationed behind the sandbag walls of the fortification, scanning the neighbourhood for the first sign of trouble. The combination of the recent attack in the Capitol, the shooting here in District 6, and the upcoming visit by the Hunger Games victor and entourage has put the peacekeepers on high alert.

If I walk towards the store the peacekeepers can't fail to notice. I'm sunk if they decide to ask for my papers. The fortification has the look of semi-permanence about it, so coming back later doesn't seem to be an option. With their visors down I can't tell whether Marco or any of his men are there. I would be stopped for certain if they are. My escape from Gregor's custody probably cost Marco and his men a lot … if not money, then most certainly the trust of the Carousel's operators.

As I was saying, the freedom given to me as a Valkyrie comes with the responsibility of having to make my own choices. … So I make my choice. … I step into view of the peacekeepers and walk directly to the store. I sense the peacekeepers are all watching me but I do what any District girl would do and pretend they are not there. This both discourages any conversation and means they don't get a clear view of my face. Unfortunately the many security cameras around town will have ample recordings of my features should the peacekeepers decide later there is something worth investigating, but there is no need to make their job easier.

I enter the store and find I'm the only customer. An elderly man stands behind the counter busy sorting and repacking a large carton of screws into smaller boxes.

"Can I help you, miss?" says the man in a neutral tone.

"Er … yes please. I was advised to come here and ask for Hal. Are you Hal?"

"I am. And who is so free with my name to send a complete stranger … albeit a pretty one … to my store?"

"Sam. He is … was … the proprietor of the Westgate Hotel. I'm a friend of his granddaughter Nadia."

"I heard about what happened to Sam. Silly old fool. I don't know what got into his head. His time in the army gave him delusions of being a vigilante for justice. And what good did it do him? Dead. His property confiscated by the peacekeepers. Not a good ending for him or his next of kin. As for Nadia, I thought she was a dancer or something like that in the Capitol. Anyway, what do you need from me that you risk your well-being by walking by that lot outside."

"I've no identification papers. Sam said you might be able to help me."

"Did he now? And how come you don't have papers? If you've lost them you only need to go down to the town hall and get replacements. Of course there will be the mandatory one week's jail sentence to serve, but that's preferable to being caught without papers on you."

"I can't get replacement papers. I'm dead."

"Really? You don't look dead. I'd go as far to say that you definitely seem to be alive. You had better explain."

"I disappeared for a while and in my absence I was recorded as being dead," I say vaguely.

"I think I need a more detailed explanation than that. But not here … our 'friends' outside are still watching you. Come through to back office and we can talk in private. … Pablo! … Come mind the store."

A young man appears from the basement. My heart skips a beat when I see him. It's the same Pablo who was friendly to me while I was being held at the Red Dragon Inn.

"Finch! … I never expected to see you again. I thought you had been taken away by those Capitol men. Nobody seemed to know what happened to you after the gunfight."


	17. 4: A ghost comes to visit

Episode 4: Part 2 – A ghost comes to visit

"You know this girl, Pablo?" asks Hal.

"Yes. I met Finch while she was working at the Red Dragon Inn. It was when those Capitol men tried to take her away that all the trouble broke out," replies Pablo.

"Is that when your papers went missing?" asks Hal of me.

"No. I didn't have any before then," I reply, sensing Hal is testing my story. "As I said, I am recorded as being dead. My papers will have been cancelled and probably given to my parents."

"Then all you need to do is retrieve the papers and go to the town hall and explain what happened. Assuming your DNA matches they'll revalidate you papers."

"My parents live in District 5. They still believe I'm dead … nearly everyone does. My death was shown on television. There will be several people in high places who won't be too happy to discover I'm still here."

"That is an interesting twist and I'd like to hear the details. Unfortunately we can't stand here talking … the peacekeepers are already watching us. Finch … I need a few details from you and then I'd like you to go into the kitchen and prepare six mugs of coffee," says Hal. "Pablo … show Finch where things are and then come straight back here. I have a plan but we don't have much time."

Hal's plan has the benefit of simplicity although a thousand and one things could go wrong. Five minutes later Hal's new assistant is walking out of the door towards the peacekeepers. I'm carrying a tray with six mugs of coffee which I'm trying hard not to spill.

"Hal asked me to bring these out to you. I'm his new assistant … at least I will be if he's satisfied after my two day trial," I say.

The mood of the peacekeepers switches from being suspicious to being … well … not exactly friendly, but at least polite. They each take a mug and add sugar and milk to their liking. In order to drink the coffee they must lift their visors and I'm able to confirm Marco and his men aren't among them.

My preference is to go back to the shop and return later for the empty mugs, but Hal's plan calls for me to stay and distract the peacekeepers for a while. He didn't tell me why, but at least he is doing something to help me … I hope!

"Business must be picking up if Hal's hiring an assistant. He normally manages with just himself and his nephew. Where did you work before?" asks the peacekeeper sergeant.

"I cleaned rooms at the Westgate Hotel," I reply. "The owner was killed in the bomb blast last week and the hotel closed."

"Yes, we heard. The man responsible for the bomb was killed in the gunfight that followed. At least that's what the special detectives from the Capitol said," says another peacekeeper.

"If that's so, how come we are standing here in riot gear guarding a third-rate shopping street? Those Capitol men know more than they are saying," grumbles another. "They don't issue us with these laser weapons unless they're expecting serious trouble."

"So let them keep their secrets. None of our business. People who meddle in the Capitol's affairs get what they deserve. Look what happened to Marco … a peacekeeper one minute, an Avox the next. His men were lucky not to suffer his fate," says the sergeant.

"I hardly call six years hard labour in the mines a better outcome."

"At least after six years you're free. Being made an Avox is permanent."

"So, girl, is cleaning rooms and helping out what you normally do for a living?" asks the sergeant, turning the conversation back to me.

"Yes. I suppose so. A few weeks ago I was offered a long term job as a handmaiden to an elderly gentleman," I reply.

"Ha ha ha. Is that what they call it in the Capitol. That's a good one. Well you're pretty enough I suppose. My advice is to stick to being a sales assistant with Hal. It will cause you a lot less trouble. Anyway, we had better get back to duty and you to your new job."

I collect the mugs and return to the store to find Hal isn't there. Pablo is behind the counter and is repacking the boxes of screws Hal was working on when I arrived. He briefly acknowledges my entrance with a smile. I go through to the kitchen and stack the mugs for washing before returning to Pablo.

"You did a good job with those peacekeepers. Hal managed to slip out of the back door without them noticing. He's gone to make a few telephone calls … we believe ours is tapped by the secret service. It's fortunate the local peacekeepers aren't aware of it or we'd have them watching us even closer."

"Those peacekeepers aren't too bad a bunch … for peacekeepers. At least I learned some useful information. Now, you had better let me help you since I'm supposed to be Hal's new assistant."

"Yes, thanks. I hope you realise you aren't going to be paid. Hal barely makes enough to keep the store open."

"A valid set of identification papers will be reward enough. Plus your company for a while."

"I can't promise the papers, but my company is yours for the asking. So … tell me a bit about yourself. What happened to put you in the situation you find yourself?"

"Until a few of months ago I was an ordinary District 5 girl in the final trimester of school. Both my parents work at the power plant in our town. It's steady work and pays just enough to prevent us from starving. I too would have been working there by now if I hadn't been taken away from District 5."

"Were you kidnapped?" asks Pablo.

"Sort of. I was reaped. I was a Hunger Games tribute."

"I don't understand. Katniss Everdeen from District 12 won this year's Hunger Games. All the other tributes died in the arena."

"Precisely. Hence my problem."

"Then how come you are here if you are dead? Are you a ghost? A Hunger Games ghost?"

"Ha ha ha. Do I look like a ghost? Do I feel like I ghost?" I say wrapping my arms around Pablo's neck.

"Er … no … of course not. But I still don't understand."

"Nor do I," says Hal, returning through the back door. "But it seems you are telling the truth. A girl with your name and fitting your description was this year's Hunger Games tribute from District 5. A DNA check will confirm that beyond doubt. I presume you are willing to undergo a DNA check?"

"If it means I get some valid identification papers, then yes," I reply. It is a sad fact about the Hunger Games that within weeks of the event few people outside immediate family can remember the names and faces of the dead tributes.


	18. 4: A difficult moment

Episode 4: Part 3 – A difficult moment

I don't know how Hal has access to the equipment and databases necessary to perform a DNA matching test. Hal says it's probably safer for all concerned that I don't know. Anyway, within an hour of me giving him a pinprick blood sample he has confirmed I am who I say I am.

Now it is my turn to be mysterious. I have decided against telling Hal, or anyone else for that matter, that I'm an immortal being working for a deity by the name of Odin. That sort of story would never be believed and would probably end up with me being locked up by men in white coats. I don't want anything coming between me and meeting Katniss next Thursday.

"I don't know what happened after my body was removed from the arena or who was responsible for reviving me … or how they did it. When I came round I was in some medical facility for a few days. After that I was taken to a club in the Capitol called the Carousel where I was put to work entertaining the club members. I'm not certain what the owners of the Carousel had in mind for me longer term, but I'm picking it wasn't for my benefit. That's where I met Nadia and Jacqueline … and Katniss Everdeen. I managed to escape when the rebel group made their attack in the Capitol. I made it here before my luck ran out. I was stopped for an identification check and arrested. The peacekeepers must have decided the Carousel's reward for my return was more profitable than throwing me in jail for having no papers."

"Hmmm … well your story fits with what I've been able to find out. I've never heard of the sort of medical facility you describe, but I suppose it is possible with the technology available in the Capitol," muses Hal. "What I don't understand is why the Carousel didn't reactivate your identification papers when you were there. Even if they intended to keep you prisoner indefinitely they would have needed to produce your identification papers at some point … even if it was only for a routine fire safety inspection."

Hal is clearly uncertain about helping me beyond what he's done already. He has found a hole in my story and I need to be careful I don't make it worse.

"Maybe they did reactivate my identification but never told me. I was never allowed out of the club until we were all taken to the mansion for the Guards Regiment party."

"No … I've checked the Panem population database … you are listed as dead. There's no other record matching your DNA, so they didn't create a false identification either. I don't like it. Something isn't right," says Hal. I can tell he is on the verge of sending me away empty handed.

"Would Katniss Everdeen verify your story?" asks Pablo, sensing Hal's pending decision.

"That we met at the Carousel and what happened afterwards … yes. But not what happened before that." I reply.

Pablo turns to Hal. "We could hide Finch until Katniss Everdeen arrives and arrange a meeting. If Katniss Everdeen verifies Finch's story, then I say we should help her."

"Ha! That's easy for you to say … I'm the one taking all the risks. Reactivating an identification record means entering and leaving a very secure computer network. Normally that's not a problem … one chance in several billion of it being detected. Unless Finch's record is being monitored for just such activity. In that case the law would be upon us before we knew the trap had been sprung. But Finch has risked much in coming here, and has shown courage in facing those peacekeepers outside. Very well, we'll do as you suggest. Another week will give me time to check for hidden trackers around Finch's identification record. I presume you are willing to wait if we hide you, Finch?"

"Yes, alright. I was planning on meeting Katniss while she is here, so what you propose may work out for the best."

"Very well. There's a folding bed in the upstairs storeroom. Pablo will help you clear a space to put the bed. I'll see if I can find some blankets and sheets for you as soon as we are closed. It's not very comfortable, but it's the best I can offer."

"Thanks. I'm sure it will be fine. I've slept in far worse places," I reply.

The storeroom upstairs must have been a bedroom once upon a time. There's a mirror on the wall and curtains at the window. The floor space has been taken over by boxes of assorted goods for Hal's store. There's no order to the way the boxes are stacked, and some don't look as though they've been opened in years. At least the room is clean and relatively free of dust and cobwebs.

Pablo helps me create some space so we can unfold the bed. It's a good job I don't suffer from claustrophobia as there's very little space to move about with the bed in place. Having prepared my room as far as possible, Pablo and I return downstairs. Under other circumstances we may have lingered in my room a while, but we both know Hal's agreement to help me could change at any time. I need to keep in Hal's good books if I'm to get some identification papers.

We return downstairs to find there's a customer in the store. Hal is busy serving the man and neither of them notice Pablo and I. Suddenly some sixth sense warns me to take care … possibly my Valkyrie powers, possibly something about the man that seems out of place. Pablo is a ahead of me and there's no way of warning him without attracting the man's attention. I duck down and hide under the side counter.

"Ah! Is this is your assistant?" asks the man, seeing Pablo enter.

"Yes. My nephew helps me out from time to time," replies Hal.

"Hmm … Is he your only assistant?"

"Er … I've agreed to trial a new girl to cover for the times my nephew can't be here," replies Hal, warily.

"And where is she at the moment?"

"I don't know. Not here, as you can see," says Hal.

"Is this the girl?" asks the man. "Someone reported seeing her in this area earlier today."

"Can't say … it's not a very clear photograph. What do you think, Pablo?"

"I don't think that's her. She wasn't dressed in anything as fancy as that. That looks like a leather dress … I don't know any District girls who can afford a leather dress."

"Well there's a reward for the capture of the girl in the photograph. A large reward. If your girl is the same person you can make yourself extremely wealthy overnight by telephoning the number on this card. I'll leave you the photograph. Good-day."

The man leaves without purchasing anything. I remain hidden in case he is just outside.

"Where's Finch?" asks Hal of Pablo.

"I don't know. She was behind me when we came downstairs. She must have recognised the man and hid herself. Do you want me to find her?" replies Pablo.

"Not yet. Wait a few minutes in case the man returns," says Hal, partly for my benefit should I be within hearing distance.

"Finch must have powerful enemies if they can afford to hire a Capitol private detective agency," says Pablo. "Well this proves she has been telling the truth."

"Possibly. Or it could be a trap. Either way this has become a whole lot more dangerous."


	19. 4: Three men fighting over one girl

Episode 4: Part 4 – Three men fighting over one girl.

I remain hidden until Hal closes up for the day. Pablo located my hiding place soon after the private detective left, but following Hal's advice I stayed put. It seems it was a wise precaution as Pablo said the man walked by the shop twice. Finally the blinds go down on the windows and I can come out of hiding.

"Do you wish me to leave?" I ask Hal. "I could be placing you in danger if that man has talked to the peacekeepers outside."

"That won't be necessary. The peacekeepers had changed shifts before the detective talked to them, so none of those on duty will have seen you. I presume you recognised the man?" replies Hal.

"No. I've never seen him before. But his clothes were too fine for even a wealthy District man, so I sensed he must be from the Capitol. Which is likely to mean trouble for me. As I told you before, I know the Carousel club has offered a reward for my return."

"You are wise to take precautions. Yet you don't seem concerned that Pablo and I might betray you for the reward."

"You had the opportunity to do that just now. I know that while Pablo and I were upstairs you could have found the Carousel's telephone number and made a call. I suspect they have someone here in District 6 looking for me after what happened at the Red Dragon Inn. When I first saw that man I thought you had done just that, and he was here to collect me."

"Hmm … Well you can see we didn't betray you. Nevertheless you have some very dangerous enemies. I hope you are a light sleeper," says Hal.

"We would never betray you, Finch!" says Pablo with feeling. "You are one of us. We'd never betray a District person to the Capitol or its cronies."

My faith in Pablo is reinforced. But equally my confidence in Hal has taken a dive. His uncomfortable look tells me there is every possibility the detective was here in response to a call from Hal to the Carousel club. But Hal didn't want Pablo to know about the betrayal, so he put on the charade of keeping me hidden. Had I walked into the store behind Pablo, the detective would have identified me and Hal could profess innocence. I'm safe as long as Pablo is near. Unfortunately he lives a few streets away so will be leaving soon.

Pablo leaves after a short while. I notice the peacekeepers outside stop him and check his papers. Clearly I can't risk going out. Hal and I make polite conversation as we eat a meal. He clearly suspects I am wary of him after the episode with the detective and he wants to reassure me. If he intends to collect the reward the last thing he needs is for me to make a run for it.

"In light of this afternoon's visitor, I've decided to help you and reactivate your identification records. It's risky, and without your original documents it will take a day or so to have new papers prepared," he says.

His sudden willingness to help takes me by surprise. Of course it could equally be a trap to stop me from bolting. But if his offer is genuine it is a step in the right direction.

"Thank you, Hal. But what if the detective returns? I can't believe he will give up that easily. It would be safer for you and Pablo if I left."

"And go where? Security is really tight with the Hunger Games victor's tour only days away. You are much safer here."

Unfortunately he is right about my chances of avoiding the peacekeepers at the moment. Slipping into the afterlife is always a means of escape, but my stubborn pride refuses to contemplate such a cowardly way out. I'm a Valkyrie … a new one admittedly … and I intend to keep to the Valkyrie standards set by Sigrdrifa and the others before her. As I go up to my room I promise Hal I'll not try to slip away in the night.

The first thing I notice when I enter my room is my leather dress laid out at the end of my bed. I've had a niggling feeling all afternoon that trouble is brewing. The presence of my dress only confirms it. The arrival of the detective misled me into thinking he was the source, but now I'm not so sure. I change into my dress and, as before, my Valkyrie senses are enhanced. I sense a very confused confrontation ahead involving several sides, each fighting for different reasons. My capture seems to be the objective for at least two sides, while the main battle is part of the growing rebellion against President Snow's regime. Odin clearly expects fatalities and I'm being called on to select those worthy to enter Valhalla.

I don't have long to wait. The first shots echo out shortly after the curfew begins. The peacekeeper fortification is a target, and because of its proximity, Hal's shop is hit by stray shots. The sound of shattering glass downstairs amidst a burst of gunfire confirms my suspicion.

"Hal! Where are you? What's going on?" I call downstairs. I don't really need an answer but I must mask my precognition of events or Hal will wonder why I'm not in a panic.

"Finch! Help me! I'm hit," comes Hal's reply.

I go downstairs and find Hal lying on the floor with a bad wound in the stomach. Regrettably it is the sort can often prove fatal. I need to keep low as the gunfight going on outside is definitely in the shoot anything that moves category. Random shots burst through the tattered blinds, ricocheting off the walls. I duck into the kitchen to grab some cloths that will do as makeshift bandages.

My efforts to staunch the flow of blood from Hal's wound prove moderately successful, but unless he gets proper medical treatment soon my efforts will be in vain.

"That's the best I can do, Hal. I'll go and get some medical help."

"No … no. It's too dangerous. I don't think I'm going to make it anyway. Listen! I reactivated your identification record, but when I left the database an alarm was triggered. They won't be able to trace what I did to your identification record, but they know someone entered their system illegally. There will be special agents tracking the source here. You must get away," says Hal in ragged breaths. "Your original papers are now valid and can be used. Try to recover them if you can, otherwise you'll have to find someone who knows how to forge duplicates."

Hal is starting to lose consciousness. I must decide whether or not to grant him entry into Valhalla; my inner sense says no. He is not a warrior and only a few hours ago was willing to betray me for a reward. Nevertheless I stay close by him as the battle rages despite the risk of being hit.

The fighting finally stops and I'm suddenly aware Hal and I aren't alone. I detect movement in the kitchen. Before I can react I'm staring down the barrel of a fancy laser weapon. One of the easy-to-hide short-range jobs popular among the minders and bodyguards in the Capitol. The owner of this one is the detective who called earlier.

"Well it looks as though I'm in luck after all," the detective chortles. "I thought you'd be long gone after my previous visit. Or didn't you realise your host betrayed you? You really must learn to be more careful in picking who to trust."

"And you must learn not to count your chickens before they're hatched," I reply, seeing two more men enter behind him. They too are armed and have the unmistakeable look of the special agents Hal warned me about.

"You're all under arrest," says one of the agents.

The detective's response is instant, swinging his gun towards the two agents. He fires one shot before taking two in the chest. The detective's shot wounds one of the agents who slumps to the floor moaning in pain. Despite being hit in the chest the detective is only winded. … Body armour! … Probably the same type as Cato was wearing in the arena … Not that it did Cato any good. And it doesn't do the detective any good either. The remaining agent quickly realises why his first shot wasn't fatal. He fires a second time and hits the detective's unprotected face.


	20. 4: Time spent with a good friend

Episode 4: Part 5 – Time spent with a good friend.

The shooting inside the store has been noticed by the peacekeepers outside. Four random shots from their heavy laser guns blast through the remains of the window and blinds and into the shelving at the back of the store. Before the agent or I can recover from the shock, there are three peacekeepers standing inside the store.

Fortunately the peacekeepers recognise Hal and regard the armed agent as the greater threat. They train their weapons on him.

"I'm Special Agent Petronius," says the agent, waving his identity card in the general direction of the peacekeepers. "This matter is Capitol business. You can leave."

"I don't think so," replies the peacekeeper sergeant. "You'll need to explain a few things to the captain down at the station."

"I don't need to explain anything," says the agent with the arrogance some people from the Capitol adopt when talking to District yokels.

"In case you haven't noticed we are in the middle of subduing an uprising at the moment. You are in a battle zone. Special Agent or not, we need to do a full identity check of all civilians found in the battle zone. And until they restore power that can only be done down at the station. So let's go. You too, girl. And you as well, storekeeper," replies the sergeant.

"Hal's dead. He's not going anywhere unless you carry his body. My papers are in my room. May I fetch them?" I say, playing for time.

"Yes, OK. Be quick. Go with her, Stokes … I'd hate for her to get lost."

I head up to my room with peacekeeper Stokes a few paces behind me. My Valkyrie foresight tells me the battle is over … the rebels have withdrawn. It's too late for me to identify anyone suitable to enter Valhalla before they are killed, so I need to slip into the afterlife and check those who died in the battle outside. But I need to lose Stokes first.

"Um … I need to change clothes. Would you mind waiting outside while I change?" I say in my best sweet shy girl manner. Stokes falls for it and agrees. The second I'm alone in my room I grab my clothes and slip into the afterlife. I needn't have bothered as Sigrdrifa has anticipated my difficulty in avoiding being watched and has already started a scan of the battle ground.

I join her as we look at the seven men killed. She agrees with my assessment … none are worthy to enter Valhalla. The dead rebels were hired mercenaries … probably not really rebels at all. The dead peacekeepers were poorly trained men who tried to flee. Not suitable to be with Odin's warriors.

"Don't worry, Finch. Sometimes this happens and there's no one suitable to take back to Valhalla," says Sigrdrifa. "If you like you can change into your ordinary clothes and I'll take your dress back to Odin."

"Am I not expected to return and report to Odin? He's probably disappointed I didn't pick anybody."

"I can make a report. As I said, this happens from time to time and Odin will understand. I suggest you focus on how you are going to stay out of trouble until your friend Katniss arrives. I don't recommend returning to the store. Your absence will have been noticed by now and your room searched."

I do as Sigrdrifa suggests and change into my regular Panem clothes. After saying farewell to her I prepare to slip back into the world of the living. I can't return to the store without facing arrest. Even if I can explain my disappearance, I've still no identification papers. The only person I can rely on to help me is Pablo. Besides, I should be the one to break the news of Hal's death to him. Fortunately he told me the address of his lodgings. I know I am putting him at risk if I'm found there, but I'm running out of options.

I find a dark corner of the garden at the back of his lodgings to return to the world of the living. The sound of sirens and the engines of transport craft indicates peacekeeper reinforcements have belatedly arrived. It is well past curfew, so I need to get inside quickly before I'm detected on a peacekeeper scanner. I move quickly to the rear door and sigh with relief when I find it unlocked.

"Who the deuce are you, girl? … And what are you doing in my house?" says a middle aged woman sat at the kitchen table.

The power is still off, so the solitary candle on the table is the only light in the gloom. I presume she is the landlady.

"I'm an acquaintance of Pablo. Is he here? I've something I need to tell him."

"It's after curfew, so if he's any sense he should be in his room. I don't allow guests upstairs so you'll have to wait in the front room. I'll go and fetch him," she says in a tone that suggests her efforts on my behalf are a major inconvenience.

She shows me to the front room and makes me wait in the dark while she takes the candle with her upstairs. I don't have long to wait before Pablo appears in the doorway.

"Finch! I thought it must be you from Mrs. Watkins description. What's wrong?"

"I've some bad news … and a favour to ask," I reply noticing Mrs. Watkins is hovering in the hallway with the only source of light.

"Can we have another candle, Mrs. Watkins?" ask Pablo. From her shocked look you would think Pablo just asked her to prepare a five course meal. Nevertheless she returns a few minutes later with a tiny stub of a candle which should last all of two minutes. Finally she leaves us alone.

I break the news about Hal and the damage to the store. Pablo seems to take the news relatively well and doesn't seem surprised when I tell him about the Special Agents turning up. He had mentioned before that Hal thought the store telephone was under surveillance. I don't pry into how much Pablo knew of his uncle's illegal activities.

"So what are you going to do now," he asks. "The curfew started over an hour ago. You'll be arrested … or worse … if they find you outside at this time of night."

"I don't know where to go. I want to meet Katniss Everdeen when she arrives, but that won't be for a few days. I can't go back to the store, even if I could get there while the curfew is in force. Added to which I've still no papers. I was hoping you might be able to help me."

"I'm happy to help, although there isn't much I can do. I can ask Mrs. Watkins to let you rent one of her empty rooms but she'll want to see your identification papers before she'll give you the key."

"I hate to ask, but could you hide me in your room?"

"Um … Er … yes … of course. I would have suggested it but I didn't think you'd approve of such a solution. Mrs. Watkins definitely won't, so we'll have to be careful. It's only a small room."

"Thank you. Pablo. I'm sure your room will do just fine. It'll only be for a few days until I can meet Katniss."

Sneaking upstairs proves easy as Mrs. Watkins is distracted by the sirens and activity in the scrub land at the back of the house. After showing me to his room, Pablo returns downstairs to make it look as though I've left by the front door. Mrs. Watkins falls for the ruse notwithstanding it is well after curfew. Curfew breaking seems to be a fairly regular pastime here, but to do so, so soon after a fire-fight, would be foolhardy in the extreme. Not that my welfare seems to bother Mrs. Watkins one iota.

By the time Pablo returns to his room I've sorted out the sleeping arrangements. He wasn't joking when he said the room was small. Nevertheless I'm not putting up with him sleeping on the floor and short of having a stand-up row that will bring unwanted attention, he'll have to go along with my proposal.

Four days later the news that Katniss has arrived in town spreads like wildfire. As much as I've enjoyed my time with Pablo, I must make my next move. I'm still no nearer finding Nadia and Jacqueline, but at least I can see if I can help Katniss.

[end of episode 4]


End file.
